Blessings and Curses
by Bluecharm1
Summary: When Tauriel healed Kili, there were unexpected consequences. The ancient magic she used was designed to regenerate the recipient from the inside out, and so it did. Kili is healed, but the magic irrevocably altered him, changing him into none other than... an elf. Currently looking for a beta. Constructive criticism appreciated!
1. Chapter 1: What Must Be Done

**Author's Note: Finally went back and rewatched the movies to get my facts straight… Many reviews pointed out things such as it was Bofur, not Bombur who was left behind and other things like that, so I decided to totally rewrite what I had so far. I hope no one's too upset, but I personally find that this version makes a lot more sense and does a better job explaining things than my last draft. As always, I love to hear from you guys, so please review! Constructive criticism is appreciated. Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit.**

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><p><em>"<em>_Of all the herbs most rare and potent, none can compare to the Athelas, better known in the common tongue as Kingsfoil. This small plant, whilst commonplace and unremarkable in both petal and leaf, hath properties most remarkable. In the hands of a King, its powers are miraculous. However, such power is not nigh as that which it is in the hands of an Elf weilding Magik of the most ancient and cathartic sort. An ancient Magik forsworn and forsaken, known by few, long since banned. Magik that penetrates both skin and sinew, tissue and bone, heart and soul. _

_Beware, oh heedless apothecary! Ye know not what ye meddle with, for Magik of the soul is the most dangerous kind and the most unpredictable. Thy troubles shalt be heaped down on thine own head, for there will be none to blame for any such unfortunate happenstance or consequences." _

_-An excerpt from the Lost Apothecary's Handbook, dated from the Second Age_

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><p>The last orc fell to the ground with a heavy <em>thud, <em>Tauriel's arrow embedded in its skull.

The she-elf however, did not relax her position or lower her bow as she scanned the room for further intruders. A young boy, a Man, crawled out from beneath the table where he'd been hidden.

"You killed them all." The boy said, looking slightly wonderous and still a little hesitant. Tauriel didn't blame him, he and his siblings had probably never seen orcs- or elves- before in his short life.

_I wish it were that simple, _she thought to herself, finally tucking away her bow. From the doorway, Legolas called,

"There are others. Tauriel, come!"

Tauriel hesitated. Legolas waited expectantly, eyes dark with the thought of orcs and hair almost silver in the moonlight. She would be lying if she denied that, in some small corner of her heart, her attraction to him remained. Meanwhile, Kili lay on top of a simple oaken table, semi-concious and groaning. One of the dwarves- Oin, was it?- had set some odd-looking plate of walnuts under his head, and looked deeply concerned. He glanced up at Tauriel.

"We're losing him!"

Her place was with Legolas, but what about Kili?

_Kili, Kili, Kili, Kili… _A traitorous voice in the back of her mind chanted. _He's going to die if you don't help him, he's going to die… _Her heart pounded feircely in her chest, fear and grief tightening her throat. If she left now, what would happen to him?

"Tauriel," said Legolas again. To anyone else, he would have sounded even more demanding this time than the last, but Tauriel could hear the unspoken plea woven in. _Are you coming? Tauriel, please. Don't do anything foolish. _

She took a step back.

_No, _came her reply, equally silent. Legolas paused for a moment, torn, and for a heartbeat Tauriel thought he might stay. But then the moment shattered when the cry of an orc tore through the night and in a flash, Legolas was gone.

Only a second later, a second dwarf- this one with a large, floppy brown hat- came running inside, clutching a plain-flowered plant in his hand. Tauriel took it from him.

"Athelas," she murmured, the floppy hatted dwarf eying her uncertainly.

"What are you doing?"

Tauriel looked at him, hoping that she looked a lot calmer than she felt. "I'm going to save him." The reply was a lot simpler than the situation truly warranted. Kili had been struck by a Morgul Shaft- which to the dwarves, certainly meant bad news. But they had no real idea the potency of the arrow's poison. There were some things not even elvish healing could fix. Unless…

Tauriel shifted the Kingsfoil around in her palms. It felt lush and fresh. _But it is forbidden- such healing has been forbidden for over seven hundred years, what will the Elvenking say to me if he finds out that I used such magic, especially to save the life of a dwarf? _She wasn't as worried about the dwarves, they probably wouldn't know one elvish chant from the next, and would have no idea what _Fea Evaliir_- also known as soul magic- was.

_It's dangerous, it's unpredicatable… _The more cautious side of her, which sounded suspiciously like Legolas, urged. _If done wrong, it could get you killed! _But the stubborn traitorous side of her was even louder. _Kili's life is at stake, and you want to sit around and do nothing? You travelled to Laketown to make sure he would live, and you need to see that through! _

Her mind made up, Tauriel gripped the Kingsfoil harder and said grimly to the dwarves, "Hold him down."

Once they had done so, Tauriel pulled back the cloth covering the wound. It looked infected, all swollen and red, and it didn't look like Kili had taken any time to properly treat it at all. _That complicates things, _the she-elf thought. If Tauriel hadn't been so used to blood, the sight would have made her sick right then and there. Gritting her teeth, she pressed the Kingsfoil against the open wound and began to chant.

Her first guess was right: ordinary elvish healing was not going to work on Kili. His injury was too severe, and had been left untreated for too long. The only option left was _Fea Evaliir. _

Tauriel closed her eyes, trying to remember everything she knew about using the forbidden magic. _Remember, Tauriel, _the voice of her mother came back to her, unbidden. _That healing is a gift. You must use it. At its core, Fea Evaliir is simple. Energy is the truest sorce of healing, and our energy is life. Life flows through us all, all you need to know how to do is redirect the life and energy from your own body into another. Let the light of the Eldar guide you. _

Tauriel's mother had died when she was only a little over a hundred years old, and as Captain of the Guard, Tauriel had always been more of a warrior than a healer. She truly had no idea what she was doing, but knew she had to try. Kili's life depended on it.

She focused, and as she focused, Tauriel could _feel _the sickness and pain radiating from the young dwarf's body. No matter how hard she focused her own energy into her fingertips and attempted to ease the healing essence into Kili's semi-concious form, the poison fought back. It clung to Kili like flies to a dead warg, working its way again and again through his bloodstream. Everywhere their skin touched her fingers tingled. _If jet black were a color, it would feel like this,_Tauriel thought. Like pain and despair, she was suffocating, dying-

And still she pressed deeper. She pushed her way through the darkness, seaching for the light. A light. _Any _light. She chanted even louder.

Then she found it- the light she was looking for. Tauriel sensed it, buried deep within his chest. She allowed herself to open her eyes. To her surprise, Kili was staring back, though he seemed too disoriented to do anything else. It was as if he too sensed that she'd found his soul, for that was what the light within truly was. Tauriel hadn't known what to expect, succeeding in finding the deepest part of the dwarf's inner being. For the first time, she could understand _why_ _Fea Evaliir _was outlawed; the soul was a vulnerable thing.

It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, so to speak. Kili's soul was light and warm and young; it felt _golden _if that made any sense, just as the poison from the Morgul Shaft felt like an inky black. His aura was cheerful and should have been strong, but she could feel it weakening rapidly, even as she willed him to live. She could sense within Kili fears and desires, hopes and dreams, all swirling around inside of his soul like the mist in a crystal ball. Within her, she could sense her own soul stir, almost brushing his but not quite. It felt wrong to be so directly linked to someone who was unaware of it.

_Stay with me, Kili… Stay with me… _Tauriel begged. She was beginning to grow tired, and Kili was at death's door. _I'm losing him! _She realized. Even the forbidden magic was failing….

_Let the light of the Eldar guide you…_

With one final surge of effort, Tauriel drew from the last reserve of energy she had left- her own soul, her very life force. Pressing down with renewed vigor, she channeled the life into Kili's body. The poison- and even Kili's own body- rebelled against the internal invasion. The dwarvishness of his soul rose up to fight against Tauriel's elvish magic, but to no avail. She squashed it down ruthlessly, continuing to pour elven life and healing into his body, and the fight drained out of him.

Kili's eyes flickered feverishly as he looked up at her. "Tauriel?" he asked sluggishly. But before Tauriel could respond, he continued, unaware. "No, you cannot be her. She is far away… She… She walks in starlight in another world. It was just a dream."

She was only faintly aware of his fingers wrapping weakly around her wrist, so weary from the healing she was. Kili's soul, as battered from the barrage of magic as his body was healed by it, was no longer merely accepting the foreign presence, but embracing it. Adapting to it.

Tauriel frowned. That wasn't supposed to happen…

She stumbled back, head spinning and off balance with exhaustion. Meanwhile, Kili's form had begun to lengthen, his ears growing longer and more pointed while his meager beginnings of a beard faded away entirely. But Tauriel had no more time to wonder at what was happening because at that moment she fell, her head striking the ground, and she knew no more.


	2. Chapter 2: Kili Wakes Up

**Author's Note: I said I probably wasn't going to update again until this Saturday, but surprise, surprise. An early update! I still haven't seen BoTFA yet, but I'm hoping to soon. From what I've heard, it sounds like I'll be needing to bring a box of tissues. :'( **

**Redligthing: Yep. There will definitely be more brotherly bonding Kili and Fili moments in the future!**

**Vanafiniel: Thanks for the advice! You're right, the term "she-elf" does sound rather harsh. **

**Hopefully, the next chapter will be up in a few days. Also, before I forget, here's the disclaimer and a horrible jab at poetry: **

**Roses are red, violets are blue,**

**Me no own, so please don't sue! **

**:P Anyway, on with the story!**

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><p>Fili closed his eyes in disbelief, turning away from his younger brother. How was any of this possible? The dark-haired stranger laying ontop of Bard's table couldn't possibly be Kili, <em>his Kili<em>_, _the younger brother he had sworn to protect, the most rambunctious member of the Company, but most of all… his best friend. This stranger, tall as any Man- if not taller- _couldn't _be Kili.

For starters, Kili was a Dwarf.

"We haven't lost him, lad." The golden-haired heir felt the weight of Bofur's hand clasp his shoulder, but the touch didn't feel anywhere near reassuring. Not when Kili had been… had been… _I should've done something to save him, _Fili thought miserably to himself, refusing to finish his previous train of thought. _If only I'd been the one to climb out of my barrel to raise the gate in Mirkwood, or- or if I could've done something to stop that Orc from firing that arrow…_

It seemed that Bofur took his silence as a sign to go on. "We haven't lost him," he repeated, but to Fili's ears, it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as well. "He's just different now… He's an…"

"An Elf." Fili managed to reply. There was a terrible moment of silence.

The two fatal words were finally spoken.

Mahal, it sounded ridiculous. Kili the _Elf? _It sounded like someone's idea of a bad joke or perhaps a very, very bad dream. Certainly not reality. Fili snuck another glance at the strange Elf lying unconcious next to him.

It- no, not it, _he, _Fili reminded himself, this was _Kili _he was talking about- stirred slightly, and for a moment all three of the Dwarves tensed, half hoping and half fearing that the Elf was about to awake, but the moment quickly passed. Letting out a soft sigh, he shifted his weight into what Fili hoped was a more comfortable position- because in all honesty, that wooden table didn't look the slightest bit comfortable. The steady rise and fall of his chest assured Fili that the Elf was still in a deep sleep.

_Not an Elf, _Fili scolded himself. _Kili, your brother. Kili, Kili, Kil! _

As much as it pained him, Fili could see very little of his brother in the being before him. The stranger certainly had Kili's dark, slightly unruly hair, with several strands overshadowing his brow. He also had Kili's clothes- the pants and no doubt the shoes that no longer fit the Elf's taller, more limber build. He'd grown into Bard's red shirt quite nicely, but as for the rest of his clothes, Kili would definitely need to change out of them. Fili cast an uncertain glance at the elleth who had healed his brother, after losing conciousness herself, had been propped up rather haphazardly against a nearby wall (with the combined efforts of Bofur and Oin- they'd quickly learned that despite their deceptive grace, an unconcious full grown Elf was _heavy_).

Had she known that in saving Kili's life, she would be taking him away from them? Fili doubted it; from the little he had seen, it was clear that his little brother was fond of the Elf- perhaps too fond- and now, seeing that she'd come all the way to Laketown to save him, it was also clear that those were feelings that she reciprocated. She would never do anything to willfully hurt him.

_Oh, Kee… What have you gotten yourself into? _

"I know little of Elvish medicine, and I'd considered it a great honor to watch such healing at work. I wished to see how it would magage to heal Kili," Oin's voice was heavy with regret. "But now all I wish is that I'd been a little less curious, and a little more cautious."

Fili looked directly at the elderly healer, disbelief shining in his eyes. "You mean, this was for nothing? You could've saved Kili's life, without the help of the Elf?"

"You misunderstand me," said Oin with a sad shake of his head. "Kili was fading fast; there was nothing to be done. Initially, I believed that I may have been able to treat him. That is why I stayed behind. But by dusk, I realized that that there was nothing I could do. For better or for worse, that elf," he nodded breifly in Tauriel's direction, "saved his life."

"He's going to panic when he wakes up," said Fili, casting another anxious glance at his brother. A soft smile flitted across the unconcious former Dwarf's face, and he murmured something that sounded suspiciously like 'Tauriel.' _Tauriel. Was that the Elf woman's name? _Fili frowned. Was his brother actually… dreaming about her? _Kili, please don't tell me this means you actually _like _the Elf! _

"What was that?" asked Bofur.

"What was what? I didn't hear anything," said Fili, perhaps a little too quickly, covering for his brother. "What I said was 'he's going to panic when he wakes up.'"

"Aye, that he is." agreed Oin. "But for all we know, this may not be permanent. The Elf who healed him may know how to reverse this. Until then, we'll just have to remain patient until she wakes up."

_That's a lot easier said than done, _Fili thought grimly. _What will we do if Kili wakes up before she does? What will we say? How do you explain to someone that they have become something that they are supposed to hate? _But the question he asked was one even more pressing. "Kili is my brother, no matter what. But how will Uncle Thorin react?"

A groggy voice caused all three Dwarves to jump.

"How will Uncle react to what?"

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><p>Conciousness returned to Kili in bits and pieces. At first, all he could remember was searing pain. Terrible pain, like none he'd ever endured before, spreading from his injured knee to the rest of his body. Then there was the jarring sensation of falling on the ground when the Orcs attacked. Wait, was it the Orcs that attacked? Kili was pretty sure it was the Orcs, but for all he knew, it could've been anything. The poison in the arrowhead made him feverish and hazy.<p>

Then he'd seen Tauriel, and that part he was pretty sure was a dream. For one, Tauriel lived in Mirkwood, what would she be doing in Laketown? And even if she somehow had followed the Company to Laketown and healed him, it didn't make any sense for her to be _glowing _as she did so.

But as impossible as it was, it felt so _real._

In his dream, she'd placed her hands on his wound and began to chant. And as she chanted, he'd began to feel rather… strange. Something other than the sickness had crept into his body and seeped into his very bones. At first, it had felt nice- all light and warmth and distinctly _Tauriel. _But then, it had grown overpowering, tearing him apart from the inside, burning and blinding him with its brightness.

Come to think of it, he could still feel the warm little light in his chest. It no longer felt uncomfortable, but welcoming and natural. He smiled softly to himself. It was nice. Like Tauriel.

It was then that he became aware of the conversation going on around him.

"…May not be permanent," came the slightly rough but unmistakable voice of Oin. "The elf who healed him… we'll just have to be patient until she wakes up." Oin's voice drifted in and out of focus. What were they talking about? Kili tried to ask, but his mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. He wanted to wake up, to reassure everyone that he was alright, but his eyelids felt so heavy…

The next voice however, Kili understood perfectly.

"Kili is my brother-" _Fee! _Kili wanted to embrace him. _Of course I'm your brother, why wouldn't I be? _Unaware of the former Dwarf's awareness, Fili continued. "-no matter what. But how will Uncle Thorin react?"

_How will Uncle Thorin react?_

There was something wrong with him.

Panic surged inside of Kili, and he struggled to push it down. _What's wrong? _He wanted to cry out. _What's so bad that Uncle wouldn't accept me for it? _Was he blind, and that was why he couldn't open his eyes? Or… Or had his injured leg been amputated, and he would never be able to walk again? But as far as Kili knew, Uncle Thorin had never disowned or discriminated against anyone based on an injury. In fact, Uncle Thorin was the one who had taught Kili to _respect _those severely injured in battle. Maybe Fili was simply worried that Thorin wouldn't be pleased to learn that Kili'd been healed by an Elf.

_That's it, _Kili told himself. _My dream wasn't a dream; Tauriel was really here. Uncle isn't going to be happy to hear that an Elf saved my life._

All the same, he struggled to open his eyes. _Come on, _he coaxed his stubborn eyelids. _For Durin's sake, work! _

His eyes flew open, the lighting inside Bard's almost blinding. Squinting, he managed to ask in a voice thick and heavy with sleep, "How will Uncle react to what?"

Kili watched at the color drained out of his brother's face. Fili took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for something unpleasant, and took a step closer to him. "Kee," he said slowly. Kili stiffened. Fili hadn't used that nickname so publicly since they were children. "No matter what has happened, you will always be my brother."

Kili whimpered. "Fee, you're scaring me." He struggled to sit up, but Oin gently pushed him back down.

"Easy, laddie. I don't think you're ready for that quite yet."

The young prince ignored him and sat up anyway. His head ached, but the wrongness of the situation hit him like a thunderclap. Even though he was not standing up, it was clear that he was taller than Fili. Taller than any of the Dwarves for that matter.

"What's going on?" He asked, hating how frightened and demanding he sounded.

Fili gingerly put a reassuring hand on his arm. "An Elf woman came and healed you, brother. You were dying."

"Tauriel," Kili said softly, happy that part hadn't been a dream after all. "But what's going on? Why is everyone acting like someone just died?"

His brother took a shaky breath. "She saved you, Kili, but at a price. You're no longer a Dwarf… You're an Elf."

_What? No. No, no, no, no,no…. _Kili stared disbelievingly at the three Dwarves before him. It all made sense, in a horrible, twisted sort of way. The fact that he was taller. The strange warmth in his chest. It was magic. Desperately, he looked to Fili. "I don't believe you." His voice shook. "You're lying!" The room rocked and he rocked with it. Fili's reply was soft, barely above a whisper.

"I wouldn't lie to you, Kee."

_No, no, no, no, no!_

Kili raised his hands in front of his face, staring at the elongated, elegant digits in shock. The nails were still dirty and cut to the quick, but unfamiliar. They weren't _his_ hands. With a morbid fascination, he brought the foreign hands up to his face, tracing its contours. His face felt strange, more angular. His cheeks and jaw were now as smooth and soft as the skin of a newborn dwarfling, all traces of the scruffy beginnings of a beard gone. His hands roved higher. Kili dreaded what he would find, but found himself unable to stop. Fingertips traced over the long, sensitive pointed ears, and Kili could hold it back no more.

He was inexplicably and undeniably an Elf.

Fili was right, what was Thorin going to think? His uncle wouldn't want an _Elf _as one of his heirs!

Kili could see his own grief reflected in the bright blue eyes of his brother. Looking back on the moment later, neither Oin nor Bofur could tell who acted first- it seemed that at the exact moment Fili opened his arms Kili flung himself into his brother's embrace, where they stayed for awhile, rocking ever so slightly back and forth.

"It's going to be alright," murmured Fili. "Everything's going to turn out okay."

Oin and Bofur exchanged uncertain glances. _Would it? _


	3. Chapter 3: Of Elves and Dragons

**Author's Note: It's 12 AM where I am, and I'm ready to get some sleep. Thank you so much to everyone who reviews and follows/favorites this fic, it means so much! Also, thank you to everyone who gave constructive criticism. Enjoy this chappie! Disclaimer: I don't own the Hobbit.**

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><p>The house shook as another roar sounded in the distance.<p>

"Smaug," said Bofur grimly. "We've got to get out of here. Quickly."

Kili made a move to get off the table, but fell with a startled yelp as soon as his feet touched the ground. The former Dwarf looked pained as he staggered to his feet, gripping the table for support.

"Are you alright, brother?" asked Fili. He put a steadying hand on Kili's arm- not that it would do much good if the Elf did stumble, Fili supposed that with Kili's larger size, he may just end up dragging his brother down with him. He gripped the sides of the table so hard his knuckles turned white, which Fili pretended not to notice. Taking a few labored breaths, Kili nodded.

"I'm fine," he said, "I- I can't walk right with this body." _With this body. _As if the body he was currently in was not his own. Shuffling his feet underneath him, Kili drew himself to his full height and loosened his grip somewhat. However, as he continued, he looked distinctly embarrassed. "But… I think I split my pants."

"I'll ask Singrid if Bard has any to spare. And shoes too," Fili added with a pointed glance at his feet. Kili followed his brother's gaze, gasping at what he saw. His boots- his favorite, worn leather boots- were destroyed, split along the seams by much longer Elven feet. The former dwarf blinked in surprise- those couldn't- _how could those be _his _feet? _But to his dismay, when he willed his toes to move, the Elven toes sticking out of the boots wiggled as well.

Fili encountered Singrid while racing up the stairs, both moving so quickly that they nearly ran into each other.

"I need to borrow some pants and a pair of boots," said Fili.

Singrid's eyes narrowed in confusion, and she peered around the blond dwarf. "What for?" She asked. "You're a dwarf. And who's that by the table down there?"

Tilda poked her head out from behind her older sister. "I think he's an Elf," she informed Singrid with an air of childlike certainty. Her eyes widened. "But I don't remember him. Do you think he'll bring good luck like the Dwarves were supposed to? Do you suppose he got here through the toilet as well?"

"That's Kili." At both girls astonished and disbelieving glances, Fili knew he'd need a better explanation, but a better explanation would have to wait. Smaug was near enough now that they could hear wingbeats; the whole house seemed to quake under the rage of the dreaded dragon. Singrid glanced anxiously at the ceiling then nodded, dashing back upstairs. A moment later she returned carrying a brown bundle and a pair of muddied boots.

"Here," she said, tossing them to Fili. "Will these work?"

Fili nodded. "Thank you."

He brought them back to Kili, uncrumpling the pants and doing the best he could to scrape the mud off the boots. "Here, put these on."

The last thing Kili wanted to do was put on Bard's extra clothes. To put on the extra clothes was to confirm the reality of his situation, to aknowledge his change in size. It almost felt like a betrayal, casting off his Dwarven belongings.

But in the end, that is what the newly formed Elf had to do. _This isn't permanent, _he told himself, hastily slipping on the pants before Singrid and Tilda came hurdling back down the stairs. Next he pulled on the boots, uncertain of whether to be disturbed or relieved by the fact that they fit almost perfectly. _Oin said Tauriel will be able to fix it, once she wakes up. I am not an Elf. This is not my body. I am a Dwarf of Erebor. I am a Son of Durin! _It rapidly became a mantra as he fought back the tears that threatened to fall.

They climbed into the small boat tied to the side of the house overlooking the harbor, all of them- he, Fili, Oin, Bofur, Singrid, Tilda and Tauriel. Well, not so much Tauriel; the unconcious elleth was half carried, half hauled into the boat. Kili had tried to help, but only succeeded in tripping over his own too large, too foreign feet. Wordlessly, Fili had guided him back to the boat, allowing his younger brother to lean against him like a crutch.

Kili wasn't sure whether to scream or cry at his inability to be useful- weren't Elves supposed to be graceful?

Realizing his slip-up, the former Dwarf quickly caught himself: _I am not an Elf. _Elves were supposed to be graceful, but he was _not_ an Elf.

Laketown was in shambles, the bitter cold of the crisp winter air contrasted sharply with the blistering heat of dragon fire. People scattered like leaves on the wind; the screams of unfortunate souls caught up in the inferno mingling with the cries of men calling to one another, children crying for their parents and mothers wailing for their lost children.

Tilda hunkered closer to him, drawing her knees up against her chest. "I'm scared," she whispered, almost inaudibly. Kili did not respond- what was there to say? They had come to the Lonely Mountain seeking to reclaim their lost homeland and awakened Smaug, the dragon inflicting his ire upon Laketown. His throat tightened. _We did this. This is our fault. We brought this danger to Laketown- me, Thorin, and the rest of the Company. _He rowed even harder.

_The fire was red, its flaming spread… _Unbidden, the Song of The Lonely Mountain rang in his ears_, _the words eerily prophetic.

_The trees like torches blazed with light… _Uncle Thorin's voice was pitched low and gravelly, deep within his chest, and Kili could almost imagine a voice like that coming from deep within the heart of the mountain itself. Only meters away, a Man who caught fire plunged into the Lake. Kili wasn't sure if he ever resurfaced.

_The bells were ringing in the Dale, _

_And Men looked up with faces pale…_

"Where's Da?" Singrid crouched unsteadily, causing the boat to sway slightly back and forth, craning her neck to see over the heads of the Oin and Fili. The dark shape of Smaug swooped overhead again, so close the occupants of the boat could feel the rush of air created by his wings. Behind Kili, Tauriel slept on, oblivious to the carnage all around them.

_Then dragon's ire more fierce than fire,_

_Laid low their houses and towers frail…_

"Look, up there!"

They all looked up to where Tilda pointed. Far in the distance, Kili could see a lone figure- a Man- atop of the ruined bell tower. Tattered cloak billowing in the wind with bow and arrow in hand, the Man stood, braced against Smaug himself.

"It's too dark to see clearly," said Singrid, frowning.

"There is someone up there," added Fili in a doubtful tone, "but your sister is right. It's too dark to tell."

Kili shook his head. "No, I can see- clear as day. It's Bard!"

Bard misfired another arrow, its sharp point glancing off the dragon's hide as if nothing. But it was not nothing, and Smaug knew it. The dragon seemed to stiffen, arching his neck and changing direction in midair, flying back towards the archer and the tower. Tilda let out a muffled scream as Smaug descended, his heavy tail striking the tower and sending rubble and debris flying into the lake below. But still Bard held on.

The terrible dragon and the noble bowman disappeared from sight when the boat rounded the corner, hidden by an expanse of tall buildings.

"Do you think Da's alright?" Tilda asked softly, looking wistfully off into the direction from which they'd came.

"I'm sure your Da is fine," came Oin's response, more out of a desire to comfort the child than to provide actual truth. "If anyone can slay that dragon, it's him."

_The mountain smoked beneath the moon, _

_The Dwarves, they heard- _

A startled gasp from behind him jolted Kili from his thoughts. He spun around quickly, one hand already subconciously reaching for his bow- the bow that he did not possess at the time being and would've been too small to use properly anyway, but stopped in his tracks. He was confronted by none other than a very awake Tauriel.

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><p>Tauriel wasn't fond of strange situations in which she didn't know what was going on, and this was no exception.<p>

She awoke to the sounds of people screaming and the hiss and crackle of flame, to the smell of buildings burning and the feel of cold night air and smoke leaving a bitter taste in the back of her throat. She certainly didn't expect to wake up on a small boat accompanied by two children, three Dwarves from the Company of Thorin Oakensheild, and a strange Elf.

Instantly, she sat upright. She had no idea what was happening or what she planned on doing next, but anything was better than doing nothing at all. A pressing sense of urgency nudged her onwards, but she had no idea of what to say. She surveyed the Company again- there were only _three. _Kili was missing, and the very thought caused her heart to skip a beat.

"Where am I, and where is Kili?" Whatever she'd needed to say so urgently, that shouldn't have been it. Such concern for the young Dwarf would only rouse suspicion from the other Dwarves and the unknown Elf, bringing unneccessary attention to both herself and Kili. She was a warrior, a Captain of the guard. Such softness should not have slipped by her.

Yet it did, and there was nothing she could say to take back her words.

Her question however, elicted a very unexpected response.

The Elf in the red shirt- in _Bard's _red shirt, although her mind was still too weary and addled to put two and two together- turned towards her. His eyes, a deep shade of brown, almost black in the dark but shining twice as bright, glinted with an unrecognizable emotion. It was not until the Elf spoke that Tauriel recognized the voice, though the face and form had changed.

He leaned a little closer. "Tauriel," he said. "It's me."

_It was Kili. _


	4. Chapter 4: The Light Within

**Author's Note: I've decided to try and update this fic at least once a week. I'm on break right now, so my updates are more frequent. Once school starts up, it will be more difficult to find the time. In the meantime though, enjoy the chapter! Disclaimer: I don't own the Hobbit. **

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><p>Instantly, all traces of grogginess vanished from Tauriel's face. The elleth sat upright so suddenly the entire boat rocked, its passengers gripping the sides to steady it. Tauriel, seemingly uneffected by the the upset, settled herself into a more poised seating position, legs tucked under her and feet pressed firmly against the baseboards.<p>

_"__Kili?" _Her voice caught in her throat. "How did this…" The words died before they left her mouth. Kili looked miserable, shoulders hunched and arms wrapped around himself as if warding off a chill. _As if, _the Captain of the Guard told herself. If Kili was truly as Elven as he looked, then the cold- at least not a mild cold- would have much effect on him. No, the biting pain Kili suffered from was one from within- for not only did the dark-haired Elf look miserable, he looked lost.

"I woke up like this," Kili said numbly. "Long legs, no beard, stupid ears…"

Tauriel wanted to argue that Elf ears were _not _stupid- she could hear the sound of a twig snapping from half a mile away, thank you very much, but decided that it probably wouldn't be best for her first real conversation with Kili since Mirkwood to be an argument. Kili's delerious ramblings at Bard's place didn't count for anything.

He shifted his own weight slightly, sending her a saddened grin that reminded Tauriel more of a grimace as he did so. "Surprise. Do you still think I'm tall for a Dwarf?"

It was intended as a joke, but neither felt like laughing.

_Do you think I'm tall for a Dwarf?_

There was nothing Dwarven left about Kili. That wasn't to say that he _wasn't _Kili; Tauriel could easily see the shadow of the Dwarf behind the face of the Elf. He was still distinct and recognizable, the dark eyes and hair virtually untouched. And perhaps his brows remained thicker, denser than those of a typical Elf, his skin a little less smooth. But everything that truly mattered in the appearance of an Elf- the ears, the build, the stature- was there. The Kili seated before her was not one who looked as if under an enchantment. He looked as though he'd _always _been an Elf.

Kili could see the understanding dawn in Tauriel's eyes, and felt a myriad of conflicting emotions. On one hand, she was _Tauriel, _his rescuer, his… friend. He felt strangely reluctant to call her anything more, for what was there to call her? _Crush _made him sound like he was back in his thirties and liking a female for the first time. _Lover _implied they were something more when they were not.

As Thorin said, she was the enemy. And in saving him, she'd made him the enemy as well.

Kili supressed a shudder. What was his uncle going to think when he found out what had happened to him?

Hesitantly, as if afraid he would shy away from her touch, Tauriel reached out a hand. She paused only inches from his face, then drew back. _"__Fea Evaliir," _she murmured quietly.

"Feeya Eval-eer?" Kili echoed in confusion, mangling the Sindarin pronounciation. "What's that supposed to mean?"

_"__Fea Evaliir," _Tauriel repeated, more firmly that time. "Soul magic. It's what I used to heal you."

"You preformed magic on his _soul?_" Fili demanded incredulously, whirling around so quickly that his paddle flew up out of the lake, scattering drops of water everywhere and nearly whacking Kili upside the head. The blond dwarf shot an apologetic glance at his brother. "Oops. Sorry, Kili." His attention was quickly drawn back to Tauriel. "But isn't that _dangerous?" _

Tauriel nodded. "Very. I wouldn't have used it if I hadn't believed it would be the only way to save his life."

_I'm going to save him. _It seemed that her earlier words had came back to haunt her. It was hard to believe that they'd came from her lips less than an hour before. She'd been so confident then, so sure of herself. So sure that she was doing the right thing in saving Kili's life. But was it the right thing to do? It was clear that Kili was devastated by his transformation, and Tauriel knew firsthand that if their wish for death was severe enough, an Elf could fade away from greif. To make things even more difficult, Kili was originally not an Elf but a Dwarf.

Tauriel tried to imagine what the roles would've looked like in reverse; an Elf forced into the body of a Dwarf. She did her best to stifle a cringe as she imagined what it would be like, trapped in a squat, aging body, living away from the starlight deep underground, spending the remainder of her days obsessing over gems and precious metals. Any sane Elf would prefer death over such a wretched existence.

Would a Dwarf feel the same way about being an Elf?

_If he lives on, he will lose everything, _Tauriel realized with a sudden jolt. _He will outlive his uncle and brother. _And there was no way to tell yet of how deeply Kili's transformation affected him psychologically. _He may find himself claustrophobic underground, or develop a yearning for trees and open spaces, _she realized with growing horror. _He will live as an outcast from his people. _

She said none of this out loud, but her heart cried out for what she had done to the Dwarf she'd been trying to help.

_Oh Kili, what have I done to you?_

Another frightening roar cut through the night. Their boat tilted ominously back and forth on the inky water as waves struck the starboard side, propelled by the collapse of a fire-ravaged structure only yards away. Oin glanced nervously out over the lake.

"This may be a discussion better reserved for another time."

The shadow of Smaug darted once more over the lake, the occupants of the boat hardly daring to breathe. No one disagreed with the old healer.

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><p>Before dawn, they set up camp.<p>

Bofur was weary- they had to haul the boat far enough up shore it wouldn't drift away at the first opportunity- and ice cold water sloshed around in his boots. With stiff fingers he riffled through his coat pockets, searching for his pipe. He felt near frozen and was in need of a good smoke. He soon found his pipe, but belatedly realized that he had nothing to light it with: his matches were too soaked with lake water to be of any use.

Ah, well. At least he hadn't lost his hat.

The toy maker paused on the shore, glancing back to see how his companions were faring.

Oin was the next to trudge to shore, and behind him came Singrid holding tightly to Tilda's hand. Tauriel leapt from the boat to dry ground with irritating ease. Stupid, arrogant Elves with their natural agility. Fili had gone back to help Kili off the boat, the former Dwarf still struggling to maintain balance with his altered gait. Kili still leaned heavily on the blond Dwarf, Fili stoic and uncomplaining as he bore the icy water once again to assist his brother.

At last they were all on dry land, but they weren't the only ones.

Hundreds of Men and women- survivors from Laketown- gathered in groups, some sitting aroung hastily made fires, others wringing out waterlogged possessions or tending the wounded. Some simply sat fown on the ground and stared listlessly off into the distance, shell shocked. The air was filled with the thrum of voices.

One voice in particular rose above the rest.

"It it isn't Bard, the hero of Laketown, the slayer of Smaug!" It was Alfrid, the sleazy advisor of the Master. The man's voice was as slick and oily as his hair. Bard, emerging from the middle of the crowd, scowled.

No amount of wheedling and assurances could earn back the trust Alfrid had lost from the people after his cowardly flight from Laketown, and the angry crowd closed in on him. Too late, the selfish advisor realized that the tide had turned against him.

"This could get ugly," Oin murmured, and Bofur was grateful for their location furthur downshore, where even Bard took no notice of them. It was unlikely that any would unless they were truly looking. At the sight of their father, Singrid and Tilda took off running.

"Da!" Before anyone could stop them, they launched themselves into his arms.

Bard's expression softened as he held his children close. Turning back to the crowd and Alfrid, the Bowman spoke, and his words calmed the angry sea of faces. The tension over, the Dwarves, Kili, and Tauriel resumed setting up camp.

"Now that that's settled," Bofur sighed, once again attempting to light his pipe, successfully this time. "I think there's a lot we need to talk about."

Tauriel shifted uncomfortably. "Where do I begin?"

"How about at the beginning?"

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><p>Kili had to be dreaming. There was no other explanation.<p>

His head spun, trying to process everything Tauriel had told them – had told _him- _as they sat around the fireside, the shore strangely quiet as most of the people of Laketown had long since gone to sleep. Their fire had begun to burn out, but no one moved to rekindle it. It would be morning in a few hours, and the sun would chase away the predawn chill. Besides, it seemed that Tauriel's account had enraptured them all.

Soul magic, forbidden healing, transformation? Kili shook his head. It all sounded like something out of a legend, a far-fetched tale like the ones Uncle used to tell him and Fili when they were dwarflings. Certainly not something that happened in real life.

Tauriel seemed apologetic as she spoke, her eyes constantly seeking out Kili's as she sought to explain. With no little difficulty, Kili gazed back. In part, he felt that he should've been angry at the elleth for what she'd done to him, for what he had lost, but found himself unable to. Maybe it was because her intentions were well-meaning, or maybe it was simply because she was Tauriel.

Either way, Kili couldn't find it in his heart to hate her.

And for that, he wasn't sure whether to be grateful or concerned.

Either way, he knew he had to return things to normal. Soon. Before Thorin or any other member of the Company could see him as a _shirumund _Elf.

"You don't suppose you could… change me back by any chance?" Kili's tone was so achingly hopeful, it even pained him. The doubt in Tauriel's eyes was obvious.

"I can try," she offered, moving closer to him. "But I have never done this before and it may not work. But I will give it my all."

She placed one hand on either side of the dark-haired Elf's temples, right above the ears, and began to chant. It was disconcerting to see how the Dwarf who'd not quite came up to her chest had managed to become an Elf nearly a full head taller than her. She couldn't imagine what it felt like from Kili's perspective.

Kili closed his eyes and focused on the sound of her voice. He could feel a strange, prickling sensation spreading throughout his body, and felt almost dizzy with hope. Maybe this would work after all. The ball of warmth in his chest seemed to swell, growing stronger and larger. Whether it was working with or against Tauriel's magic Kili wasn't sure, but he prayed that it was the former.

It flickered and grew, and as Tauriel's incantation increased in speed and volume, he felt a rush of excitement. This was it, he knew. Soon he would be a Dwarf again, probably looking ridiculous in Bard's oversized clothes, but none of that would matter. He would be himself again, and everything would return to normal-

Abruptly, he realized that Tauriel was no longer chanting.

Slowly, cautiously, hardly daring to breathe, he opened his eyes. To his surprise, he found Tauriel staring back, her face almost inches from his own. Staring _up _at him, not down. The disappointment came crashing down on him, as hard as any physical blow.

He was still an Elf.

Tauriel gently drew back, moisture gathering in the corners of her eyes as she apologized. "I am sorry, Kili. I am so, so sorry."

Kili could swear he could almost feel his heart breaking- if the pesky warmth in his chest hadn't been pulsing more strongly. Self-conciously, he rubbed at it. "Do you always feel like this?" he asked.

Tauriel looked confused. "Feel like what?"

"Like there's a furnace in your chest."

The elleth brought a hand up to her own collarbone. "I… I suppose I do," she said at last, looking thoughtful.

Kili frowned. "What do you mean, you _suppose _you do?"

"I guess I've never really given much thought to it before," Tauriel replied. "I have always felt this. What you feel Kili is the Light of the Eldar, a life force present in all Elves." She carefully refrained from mentioning it was the Light of the Eldar that gave Elves their long life spans and immortality.

The idea of being immortal seemed to have not yet occurred to Kili yet, and she didn't wish to bring it to the forefront of his mind until he was ready. The knowledge would devastate the former Dwarf, who was devastated enough already. Yes, Tauriel realized, he would find out soon enough.

But until that time came, she figured there was no harm in sheltering him from the pain.

The group lasped into an uncomfortable silence until at last Bofur stretched and said with a yawn, "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm ready to hit the hay. Tomorrow we can begin the long walk to the Lonely Mountain. Just think of it, lads. Erebor awaits!"

The rest of the group hastily agreed and as the three Dwarves and Kili lay down and got situated, Tauriel wondered if it was an appropriate time to mention that Elves didn't require sleep.


	5. Chapter 5: The Price of Immortality

**Author's Note: Merry Christmas, my amazing readers! I hope you are all doing well. This chappie kind of took on a mind of its own- the second part of this was meant to be included as well, but the scenes ended up stretching out longer than I thought, and I want to keep my chapter lengths consistent. I should be able to update again in a few days. **

**Eclaire Stones: It is common knowledge that Elves are immortal, but Kili was in shock. His brain hadn't quite caught up to what had happened. But this chappie deals with your question… *Cue dramatic music***

**A lot of you guys also seem to be looking forward to Legolas and Thranduil's reactions. All I've got to say is all in good time, all in good time… **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hobbit.**

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><p>Apparently he was not only an Elf, but an insomniac as well.<p>

Kili sighed loudly and flopped over, turning on his stomach and burying his head in his arms, doing his best to ignore the lush, almost sickeningly sweet odor emanating from the grass and the feel of beardless skin against his arms. The sounds of his snoring companions usually didn't bother him- travelling together meant that they'd all had ample time to get used to each other- but tonight their rumbling was loud enough to wake the dead.

It didn't help that as well as the snoring, he could hear the murmur of Men's voices from furthur down the river as distinctly as if they were carried by the wind, the cawing of a lone crow, and of course, the constant slap of the lakewater as it struck the side of the shore. Somewhere in the distance, a twig snapped as suddenly and violently as a bone breaking.

Never one to be patient, Kili huffed and readjusted his position again, clapping his hands over his ears. Was he _supposed _to hear this well? The former Dwarf supposed he could ask Tauriel, but the elleth was probably sound asleep and he didn't want to wake her up for the sake of a stupid question.

His determination doubled by the thought, Kili resolutely kept his eyes shut and forced his body to remain motionless, taking deep, measured breaths to quiet his mind. If anything though, his thoughts refused to be quieted and he found his imagination even more active than before.

The Lonely Mountain. Erebor. His Uncle.

He would see them all tomorrow.

How many times had he pictured their triumphant return to the mountain, imagined his first step into the kingdom of Erebor? The answer must've been more times than he could count- he and Fili had been raised on tales of the mountain. Their quest was one of legend.

But reality however, had different plans than legend.

In all of Kili's fantasies, he was _with_ his Uncle when they reclaimed their home. Together with Fili, he would explore the great halls and corridors of old, see the Arkenstone, stand on piles of endless treasure. Maybe even find out which room had once belonged to Thorin or his deceased uncle, Frerin. Never in Kili's dreams did he give much thought to the events leading up to reclaiming their home. Oh sure, there would be a long journey to reach Erebor, filled with difficulty and small dangers, but nothing too terrible. And then there was the issue of Smaug- who honestly _did _frighten Kili, but he chose not to think too much about that- Thorin had a plan, right?

But not even in his wildest dreams did he imagine that he _wouldn't _be there when the Company first set foot in Erebor. Nor did he ever imagine he'd be seeing it as an Elf.

Kili's stomach lurched uncomfortably at the reminder and his grip tightened, nails digging into the pointed ears so hard that it hurt.

_Mahal, _he thought, half praying. _I don't want this. I don't want to be an Elf._

But if the maker heard the dark-haired Elf's plea, he gave no indication of it. Mahal was silent, as silent as he was on the day Smaug attacked Erebor and Dale all those years ago. Kili swallowed down the heavy lump in his throat. Mahal created the Seven Fathers, would he even _listen _to the cry of an Elf? The Elves, Kili remembered, were created by Iluvatar. Should he make his plea to Iluvatar instead?

_Whoever you are- Mahal, Iluvatar- I don't care! I don't want to be an Elf!_

What would happen to him then, when he died? Since he was born a Dwarf, would he be reunited with his kin in death? Or would he go to... Kili struggled to remember what happened to Elves when they died, but nothing came to mind. Thorin had never been very encouraging towards the studying of other races, especially the Elves. But death didn't seem as important to the Elves anyway, they were practically immortal.

_Durin's beard. _The Elves were immortal.

_He_ was immortal.

And in that realization, Kili's entire world shattered. He sat bolt upright, the desire to sleep vanished. His chest heaved and his whole body trembled, a cold sweat beading his brow. He looked over at his companions- at his _brother- _sleeping peacefully without a care in the world, oblivious to the dark-haired Elf's turmoil. Fili twitched slightly in his sleep, as if sensing something was amiss, but then settled into an even deeper sleep than before. The only one who noticed him was Tauriel.

"Kili, what's wrong?" Her green eyes were bright and watchful- too alert for one who had just been asleep. She had been awake and nearby, but though in his greif, Kili hadn't noticed.

He scrambled to his feet, heart pounding wildly. "St-stay away from me!"

The cry tore from his throat, raw and frightened. Terrified.

Tauriel stiffened, hurt and confusion flashing in her eyes. "What's wrong?" she pressed. "Kili, you can tell me."

Kili shook. He was trapped, trapped in his own body.

He was going to watch as his Uncle, his mother, even his own _brother_ grow old and die, and be powerless to do anything about it. _Mahal, _Fee could have great-grandchildren one day and he would still end up looking younger than them.

Tauriel was an Elf, she wouldn't understand. Long life was a given among her kind. _She _wouldn't understand how terrible it would be to outlive the ones she loved- because they were all Elves, like her. Kili had never spoken to Tauriel about her family before, but he could easily picture it. She probably had an Elf father and an Elf mother, and maybe even some Elf siblings and an Elf cousin or two. They were probably a happy, normal Elven family that would practice archery and comb each other's hair- or whatever it was that Elves did in their spare time.

Kili was different: his family were Dwarves.

Tauriel wouldn't understand, how could she? Despite how he felt about her, she was in many ways still a stranger. She could offer him no comfort, only the truth.

He needed to escape.

_Now._

Before he fully knew what he was doing, he turned and ran. His feet were against him, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated, but he didn't care. It didn't matter. Nothing in the world mattered, not when he was bound to the world alone. Branches lashed at his arms and raked across his face as he fled further into the forest, but still he continued to run.

In the end, it wasn't so much about _escape _as it was about _getting_ _away. _

He could never escape.

"Kili!"

Tauriel ran after him, calling his name. The former Dwarf ignored her, and focused on his running. The trail was treacherous; several times he stumbled and fell, the muddy forest floor cushioning his fall but dirtying his tattered clothes further. When that happened, he didn't hesitate but quickly got back on his feet and kept on running.

As he ran, his footsteps got quicker and lighter. Under any other circumstance, Kili would've marvelled at the agility he now possessed, but all coherent thoughts were driven from his mind. He ran as hard and fast as he could through the trees and the silvery light filtering through their leaves, feet skimming the ground. Instead of tripping over roots, he began to anticipate and avoid them- leaping over one then veering around another.

"Kili!" Tauriel called again. She sounded closer that time.

Weariness crept back into Kili's body and he began to slow down. As fleet as he was, even an Elf couldn't run forever. Ahead, the land dipped low, forming a hollow. Kili walked by the time he reached it. Tauriel wasn't far behind.

But for once, he didn't _want _to see Tauriel. He wanted to be left alone.

The elleth looked concerned- but also slightly frustrated- by the fact she'd had to chase Kili through the forest, he could see it in her eyes. Mouth dry, he dropped his gaze. _She did this to me. _

"You did this to me." His voice rasped.

"Yes." A pause, neither condemning nor hopeful. Then, "You were going to die, there was nothing else to do. Are Elves truly so terrible that you can't bear to live your life as one? I didn't know the petty hatred between our races ran so deep."

"I don't hate Elves," Kili grumbled. His gaze darted up and met Tauriel's, but her expression was unreadable, closed off from him.

She had a way of doing that- of drawing him in yet half-heartedly pushing him away at the same time, it was part of what made her so fun to tease, yet so frustrating. Only yesterday morning he'd been sure of what he wanted in terms of his relationship with Tauriel. Next time he saw her, he'd decided, he was going to confess his feelings for her- even give her his runestone.

Now he wasn't so sure.

"I was born a Dwarf, and I always thought that I was going to die a Dwarf," Kili admitted. He felt he owed Tauriel some explanation, even if it was one as weak as that. "And now I realized that I'm going to live _forever. _If I don't die a painful, unnatural death, that is. But Thorin and Fili… and my Mum… They're- they're going to d… _not _live forever." He looked to Tauriel, dark eyes pleading. "Why didn't you let me die?

_Because I love you, _though Tauriel, _and I didn't want to see you dead. _

But the words died on her lips. Why was admitting the way she truly felt so difficult?

Before, the answer would've been obvious. She was an Elf, and he was a Dwarf. It was as simple as that. But now… standing before her was a male Elf, not a dwarrow. A handsome, if battered and miserable Elf, who also happened to be Kili. She skirted around his question.

"You're bleeding," she said instead, gesturing to one of the branch-infilicted cuts slashed across his cheek. Tauriel felt a flash of guilt at her previous thoughts- Kili was _suffering _from the effects of her magic, what right did she have to think of him in such a way?

Kili ran a hand along the side of his face, seeming absentminded and only faintly surprised when he drew back fingertips coated in blood.

"Let's go back to camp," said Tauriel. She began making her way out of the hollow, pausing and glancing over her shoulder to make sure Kili was following.

He wasn't.

"I'm not coming with you. I… I think I'm going to stay here for a little while. Alone."

The former Dwarf made another feeble attempt to wipe away the blood, but only succeeded in smearing it across his jaw. Tauriel hesitated a moment- it was almost morning, she could see the sun beginning to peer out from behind the trees- then nodded.

Perhaps that was all Kili needed- some time alone.

Tauriel only hoped that it would be enough.


	6. Chapter 6: Trials in The Morning

**Author's Note: Wow, 33 favorites and 85 followers?! You guys are amazing! I feel so honored and blessed.. This chappie may seem a little slow, but hang in there- next chappie Kili finally gets to meet Thorin and the other Dwarves at Erebor. As always, constructive criticism is encouraged and appreciated. Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit.**

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><p>Fili stretched and yawned, rubbing his eyes clear of sleep. He could still hear the deep snore of Bofur and the lighter, more wheezing sound of Oin beside him. It was early morning, the sun just beginning to shine over the horizon, and it seemed that he was the first one up. Despite only a few hours of sleep and the events of last night, Fili felt well rested.<p>

Deciding to let the others sleep, the blond heir sat up and began rebraiding his mustache. Today they would set off for Erebor-and if they made good time, they would reach it before nightfall. It was important that he looked his best. After he finished his braids, maybe he could collect more firewood so they could cook breakfast.

Having finished one side of his 'do, Fili moved on to the other side, running his fingers through the coarse hair a few times to make sure it was smooth and even. Satisfied with it, he began to braid. His fingers were deft and nimble from years of practice. The hardest part wasn't until the end, where he had to retie the little band in place and fit the bead over it. He often had Kili help him with that part.

Holding the braid in place, Fili looked around for his brother. Where was Kili?

"Kee?" He called softly, not wanting to wake the others. There was no sign of Kili, only an Elf-sized indent in the grass where he'd lain. Fili tried again, a little louder this time. "Kili!"

No response.

Hastily tying the braid himself- much more sloppily than he usually would've done, Fili was sure- he got up and began to search in earnest for his brother. There were no telltale marks of a scuffle, yet Kili could hardly walk on his own. Where in the world could he have gone to?

He decided to wake Oin and Bofur.

"Have you seen Kili?" he asked urgently, as soon as he'd shoved them rather uncerimoniously awake. Bofur blinked blearily up at him for a moment, then scanned the clearing.

"I've been asleep, lad. Personally though, I think your worrin' too much- that Elf lass is gone too, and she's not someone many would trifle with. Kili's safe with her because where ever they went, I'm pretty sure they went there _together. _It might not be best to walk in on them," he said.

At Fili's mortified splutter and protests, Bofur cracked a rakish grin. "I appreciate that you're covering for your brother, but anyone with eyes could see the way he looks at that Elf. The acoustics back in that Mirkwood prison certainly helped too- we're not deaf, you know. Sometimes I think Thorin's the only one who hasn't noticed." Seeing that Fili was still red in the face, he added, "Relax. The last part was a joke. I'm sure Kili and that Elf of his aren't _that _well acquainted."

Oin snorted. "We should hope not."

"All the same," Fili replied, "I want to go look for him."

"Patience," advised Oin. The old healer dusted off his clothes. "They should get back soon enough. If they're not back by breakfast, then we'll go look for them."

Frustrated but seeing no better option, Fili nodded. They divided the chores among them, and the blond dwarf hurried off to get firewood. The sooner they finished, the sooner he could search for Kili.

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><p>Tauriel returned alone.<p>

"Where is Kili?" Fili demanded, noticing the elleth's stricken expression. Tauriel seemed conflicted and weary- the blond noticed a tear at the bottom of her dress that hadn't been there the night before and her eyes had an almost glassy, opaque look to them. The alarm bells going off in his mind rang even louder.

"He's in the forest," said Tauriel, nodding back in the direction from which she'd came. "He… discovered his immortality. I thought it best to leave him be."

"You left him _alone?" _

Tauriel nodded, downcast.

Fili felt his heart freeze up. Kili was never one to spend much time by himself- he typically preferred the company of others, even in greif. _But this is not a typical situation, _the dark voice in the back of his mind warned. _Kili has become an Elf. You have no idea what he's going through. No one does. This is bad, very, very bad. Most Dwarves would prefer death to this. Uncle Thorin would've killed _himself _before having to live life as an Elf. _

But Kili… What would Kili do?

A greif-stricken image of the dark-haired Elf floated in his mind's eye, face twisted with horror at what he'd become, shoulders shaking with great, racking sobs. He could picture the Elf kneeling somewhere in the forest, alone. Could picture him drawing a dagger- or more realistically, one of the arrows from his quiver- from beneath his shirt, raising it to plunge into-

_No. _Kili would never do that. He wouldn't.

Not Kili, his youngest of the Company. Not Kili, who was always so full of light and laughter, who strove to one day be as majestic as Uncle and flirted with Elves. Death by one's own hand was for cowards and the hopeless.

Not for Kili.

Not for his little brother.

Fili set down his firewood and turned towards the present members of the Company. His heart pounded wildly. "I've got to go find him. He shouldn't be alone. What if he's…."

_What if he's dead? _The unspoken question hung in the air, heavy and stifling. Fili's mind raced as he sought a way to convince the others of this, but before he could, Oin spoke.

"Go to him. If anyone can help your brother, it's you." Uncertainty clawed at the back of Fili's mind, but he merely nodded. His mouth felt too dry to say anything else. Oin bent over and rummaged through his supplies, pulling out a small green vial. Making sure the cork was still securely in place, he passed it to Fili. "Here, take this. It's ground cayenne and lobelia. If necessary, it will help regulate bloodflow and calm the mind."

Fili hastily tucked the vial into his pocket, thanking the old healer.

_Mahal, _the blond Dwarf thought desperately. _I hope I don't have to use it! Hang on, Kili… I'm coming for you. Don't you dare give up on me. Remember your promise to Mum. Stay stong, Kee. Please, stay strong. _

"Follow the forest path, and you should find him." Tauriel added.

There wasn't any time to waste.

As soon as he set foot in the forest, Fili broke into a run. He was no skilled tracker, but even he could see from time to time the footprints embedded in the mud- Elvish footprints. In other places the trail wasn't so clear- the tracks were skidded and muddled, as if their owner had lost balance and fell… several times. Fili could only imagine one of the two Elves being so unsteady on their feet, and his throat tightened.

Another thing that struck him was how far apart the tracks were- a single Elven stride was nearly two of his own. Soon Fili was gasping for air, legs like lead and a stitch in his side. He marvelled at how much land Kili and Tauriel had covered. Dwarves weren't built for long distances, he reminded himself, although they could be quite formidable while sprinting.

He only hoped that he could catch up to Kili in time.

Fili alternated between jogging and a brisk walk until he reached a hollow at the end of the trail. There he slowed to a stop, resting his hands against his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. He glanced up, still panting. "Kili?"

He caught sight of his brother almost immediately, sucking in a worried breath as he saw the blood on the side of Kili's face. The dark-haired Elf looked terrible- his hair was matted and it was clear he'd been crying- glistening tear lines streaked down his otherwise dirty face. He sat leaned up against the trunk of a gnarled oak tree, arms by his sides.

"Fee?" Something flickered in Kili's gaze. "You came."

"Of course I came," said Fili, unsure of whether he wanted to laugh or cry. Most likely that latter. "You're my brother. I was worried about you."

He came closer to Kili, then sat down beside him. Kili turned towards him, and Fili could clearly see the welt on the side of his face. The bleeding had already ended, the blood caked and dried into a rusty reddish brown.

The cut itself was fairly superficial- deep enough to draw blood, but unlikely to leave a lasting scar. Fili was relieved to see that while Kili had other scratches on him as well (caused by branches overshadowing the path, no doubt. Fili had been smacked by quite a few himself, but hadn't been moving quickly enough to sustain any real injury from them.), that one seemed to be the most severe.

"Here, Oin gave me this." The blond Dwarf fished the green vial out of his pocket. "He suspected something might've happened."

Kili fixed him with a doubtful stare. "He thought trees would attack my face?"

Was Kili purposely being difficult? Fili pressed the medicine into his brother's hand.

"Not exactly, no." he admitted. "We're worried for you, Kee. All of us. I remember when you woke up, you seemed to be in so much _pain…_ So _miserable_. We wondered if… if you'd decided to find a way to end the pain once and for all."

Kili drew in a sharp breath. "You thought I was going to _kill myself?" _

Fili nodded, already feeling embarrassed and ashamed that the thought had even crossed his mind. Kili's expression was one of shock and hurt- he should've known that his brother was stronger than that. "We didn't know what you were thinking. All we knew was that you were hurting and that you were alone." He gave a short, humorless laugh. "_I _was afraid, and all of these changes didn't happen to me. For the first time, I couldn't help you. You're my brother, and I promise to always be there."

Kili slumped down even furthur. "But you _won't _always be there for me. I'm immortal. You're not."

"I know. You were always going to outlive me, Kili," Fili gently reminded him.

"But only by a few years!" The dark-haired Elf protested. "Not a few _thousand _years_! _It's not fair- I never asked to be an Elf, I don't want to be one! I'm scared, Fee…" His dark eyes met Fili's own beseechingly. "Why didn't Tauriel let me die?"

"I'm glad she saved you," Fili admitted. "I know it's selfish, but it's true. I almost lost you- _we _almost lost you. And now you're safe and alive, and part of me is glad. Very guilty and upset as well, but also glad. I don't want to live in a world without my brother."

"Neither do I."

"We'll find a way to reverse this, and then you won't have to ." Fili promised. It felt like a lie as soon as the words left his mouth. He knew nothing about what fate had befallen his brother- even _Tauriel _didn't know, and she was the one who'd healed him. What were the odds Kili would _ever _be a Dwarf again? However, his promise seemed to comfort his brother, so Fili let the moment slip by.

"Thank you," Kili murmured, breifly resting his forehead against forehead against Fili's own. The blond heir allowed himself a small smile.

"The others are pretty much packed up and ready to go," he said, drawing back. "Are we ready?"

"As I'll ever be." An uncertain shrug and a lopsided grin was Kili's response.

"Do you need any help?" Fili asked as Kili rose to stand.

The dark-haired Elf shook his head, pulling himself to his feet with almost catlike grace. "I'm good," he said, "Think I finally figured out the trick to it this morning." He still looked upset, but Fili could see a glint of humor in his eyes. "You're a lot shorter than I remembered."

"And you're very tall," Fili replied. "You're my little brother- _I'm _the older one. I hardly see how this is fair."

"Admit it, you've always looked up to me."

The blond Dwarf gave a skeptical snort. He was relieved to see Kili back in good spirits, and decided to humor his brother. "Only in your wildest dreams, Kee."

"So I don't suppose you'd want to race me back to camp then?" Kili asked, grinning for real that time.

Fili knew he had no chance of even keeping pace with an Elf, never mind beating one, but he agreed anyway. "Wash up first, then we'll race."

Kili nodded. "Deal."

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><p>Tauriel kept herself busy, tidying up around the campfire before sitting down to mend the torn hem of her dress. She hoped that with enough to do, her mind would be far too occupied to wander, but that didn't seem to be the case. Worry for Kili gnawed at her insides, and her fingers trembled. She kept her ears pricked, hoping to hear Kili and his brother return.<p>

When she heard a soft footfall behind her, she whirled around quickly. "Kili?"

It was Legolas.


	7. Chapter 7: When Friends Part Ways

**Author's Note: The events of BoTFA will take place at a slower pace than they did in the movie. My reasons for doing it: 1) If I've done my research right, Tauriel and Legolas' journey from Erebor to Agmar (where the Orcs rallied)****would've been about 300 miles- including a mountain range- meaning that it would've realistically taken Legolas and Tauriel more than a few hours to travel there as it seemed to be portrayed in the movie. Meanwhile, Dain Ironfoot, Thorin's Scottish cousin, lived roughly 150 miles away. It seems unlikely that Dain would be able to rouse an army and make for Erebor in about a day and a half. Middle Earth is a lot bigger than The Hobbit made it. Reason 2) for the sake of the plot.**

**Scififan: You're right… this is definitely going to get awkward. You ask some very good questions, but I'm not giving away anything yet. The transformation has been rough on both Kili and Fili especially, so your request is a good one. Not everything is set in stone, but I have the ending planned out. (;**

**Jw (guest): There will definitely be a Thranduil and Kili interaction. It's not even funny how much I'm looking forward to writing it. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit. **

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><p>If Legolas recognized the Dwarf's name, he made no comment of it.<p>

"Tauriel." His expression remained as schooled and calm as ever, but voice betrayed his relief at seeing her alive and well. Not for the first time, the Silvan elleth found herself struck by how closely he resembled his father, yet how different he truly was. She was certain that the Elvenking's eyes had never shown with such fondness- as hidden and reserved as it often was- or gone to such lengths to help a friend. Meanwhile, Legolas came closer. "I have been looking for you since the dragon's attack. Where have you been?"

_Why didn't you come find me?_

Tauriel almost told him the truth. She _wanted _to tell him the truth. She wanted to tell him about what a disaster their stay in Laketown had been, how she'd dabbled in forbidden magic, and how _that _went awry and because of it Kili was stuck as an Elf-

But as soon as the words bubbled up, she pressed them back down, feeling strangely reluctant to tell anything to Legolas.

She was saved from saying anything however, when they were inturrupted by a messenger astride a white horse, the crest of Mirkwood proudly emblazoned on the clasp of his cape. A messenger from the Elvenking.

"Prince Legolas, I bear a message from your father. He wishes for you to return to Mirkwood."

"Come, Tauriel."

"Not her." The messenger shifted uneasily, but otherwise kept his manner brisk. "The Elvenking has decreed her banished."

The last word cut into Tauriel's mind and heart, more sharp and biting than any blade of steel. Could she have heard the messenger right- _Banished?_

_No... _The Elvenking was harsh, but he wasn't that callous. Was he?

Forget the blade, a knife to the ribs was a merciful way to die compared to this. Tauriel felt more like she was drowning. For years she'd trod on thin ice with King Thranduil- testing his patience, testing his limits- but always confident in her footing. But now she'd fallen through. The messenger's words were ice water, crashing over her head and smothering her cry, driving every other thought from her mind. _Banished? _

_Yes… _He was that callous, wasn't he?

She should've known her King wouldn't have been so lenient in saving the life of a Dwarf. Striken with her own thoughts, Tauriel nearly jumped when Legolas abruptly spoke.

"You may tell my father that if there's no place for Tauriel, then there's no place for me."

The messenger wasn't the only one surprised by the emotion in the prince's voice. Tauriel felt a rush of affection for her friend, but it was quickly followed by dismay. Mirkwood _needed _Legolas, he being Thranduil's sole heir aside. Who else would be prepared to face the oncoming darkness? Certainly not the Elvenking, looking down his nose at the world beyond. Nor the Men of Laketown, already worn ragged by the rage of Smaug.

"Legolas, it is your king's command." said Tauriel.

What she really wanted to say was _forget the Elvenking, our people need you _or, as horribly weak and cliched it sounded, _don't go, _I _need you. _For centuries they had fought together, laughed together, _lived _together. No matter what Thranduil said, he was her best friend.

_"__Yes, he is my king, but he does not command my heart,"_ Legolas replied softly in Sindarin. His gaze warmed her, but Tauriel felt a flicker of uncertainty. Was there something other than friendship in his eyes? The Mirkwood prince hesitated for a moment, as if there was more that he wished to say, but decided against it. Abruptly, he switched back to Westron. "I ride north, will you come with me?"

"To where?" Tauriel asked, already dreading the answer. Thranduil was already furious no doubt, and He would only make things worse by acting against the Elvenking's orders, but Legolas didn't seem to care. Part of Tauriel felt proud of her _mellon_ for taking a stand against his father, but another part felt only worry. What end did he hope to achieve through his defiance?

_Do not give him hope where there is none._

Once, Tauriel assumed that the Elvenking spoke only to warn her that no possible future could exist between her and Legolas, but now she wasn't so sure. In all of her six hundred years she'd never seen her friend behave so recklessly, and couldn't help but wonder how much of it was bolstered on her behalf.

Was this what Thranduil had truly feared?

"To Gundabad," said Legolas.

Gundabad. The infamous Orc stronghold. It was said to have been purged of Orcs since the War of The Dwarves and Orcs, but with darkness yet again on the rise, its complete abandonment seemed unlikely. It would be a dangerous place for two Elves to venture to. Doubly dangerous for one to venture alone. Yet how could she go, when Kili needed her?

Tauriel hesitated. _But Legolas needs me as well, _she thought to herself. _I cannot leave him to hunt the darkness alone. Kili will soon be with his Uncle and friends at Erebor, he's in no immediate danger. _But however she tried to covince herself of that, her reluctance remained.

_He has much to learn about being an Elf, there's still so much I haven't taught him. Will he be able to manage on his own? Will his Uncle even _accept _him?_

"Tauriel? Are you feeling ill?"

Concern shone bright in the eyes of her friend, and Tauriel felt her stomach clench up with guilt. "I am fine, _mellon." _The response came quick and cool, almost scathing with its guarded edge, and the Silvan elleth immediately wished she could take it back. The corners of Legolas's mouth turned down almost inperceptively.

"My father was wrong to banish you," he said, misreading her expression. "I meant what I said to that messenger- as long as you cannot return to Mirkwood, neither shall I. He will change his mind soon, I'm sure, once he sees that I intend to uphold my word."

"You shouldn't allow me to come between me and your father. You've done more than enough for me, more than I could ever repay you for. Go home, Legolas."

"It's not home without you, Tauriel."

He extended his hand to her, and she nearly took it, wondering if indeed the air in Mirkwood affected Elves as much as it affected other beings. Her people had always been proud of their natural resilience to the sickening and enchantments of the forest- the Mirkwood Elves never suffered from disorientation and confusion induced by the forest, and didn't require the path to navigate its treacherous and timeless expanse. Mirkwood had near developed a mind of its own, becoming more sly and ruthless with every year the darkness grew.

_But with every passing year, we grow more sly and ruthless too, _thought Tauriel. _More centered on our own wishes, more ignorant to the world around us. Perhaps that's why we Silvan Elves are considered less wise and more dangerous than our kin. _Outwardly, there was very little difference between a Silvan and Sindarin Elf; the main contrasts seemed to be behavioral. The only key difference Tauriel could see between the two was subtle- the shape of a Silvan ear tended to be slightly more exaggerated, the pointed tip more distinct.

She though of Kili, with his familiar dark hair and eyes, and his newly minted features. She then studied Legolas, with his pale complexion, golden hair, and distinctly Sindarin ears, though she had heard the whispered tales of Thranduil's Silvan queen. She had no idea of how Dwarves classified themselves- or if they even had subdivisions within their own race at all- but Kili's ears held closer resemblance to her own. The prestigious descendant of Durin was a mere Silvan Elf.

Vaguely, she wondered if he would inherit their reputation for secrecy and darkness as well. Tauriel hoped not. Kili was as bright as mithril; a quality she hoped he would never lose.

Legolas tensed suddenly, pulling back his hand and drawing his bow with fluid speed as there came the sound of snapped twigs and rustling undergrowth from the forest to the right of them. Someone was running towards them, making no effort to muffle their footsteps as they went. Tauriel stepped back as Legolas pulled back further on his bow- no doubt still wary and ready for combat if necessary due to the previous night- ready to loose an arrow on whatever foe was foolish enough to charge a fully armed Elf.

Kili burst from the foilage, loud and ungainly, looking over his shoulder and oblivious to the astonished Mirkwood prince in front of him. "I won, Fee!" he called, laughing. "Do you think the others have-" Whatever Kili was going to say next died in his throat as he caught sight of Legolas. The dark-haired Elf's eyes widened momentarily, then narrowed in hostility. "You."

_"__You seem to recognize me, but I don't recognize you," _said Legolas. He lowered his bow, his features going from grim to confused as he eyed the unfamiliar Elf's tattered garments. _"__But if you are a messenger from my father, I have already told him, I will not return until he revokes Tauriel's banishment." _

"Er… what?" Kili looked to Tauriel for guidance. "I didn't get a word of what he just said. Except your name. He did say _Tauriel_, right?"

Legolas had spoken in Sindarin, and while the two true Elves understood every word of what he'd said, Kili did not.

_An Elf who couldn't comprehend Sindarin, the most common of the Elvish languages?_ As much as he found it hard to believe, Legolas sensed that the strange Elf spoke the truth. There was no understanding in the depths of those brown eyes. His confusion only grew as a second figure emerged from the forest.

"Kili, wait up! Where are you- oh." Like his dark-haired Elven companion, he stiffened at the sight of the Mirkwood prince.

The second intruder was a Dwarf; a relatively young one with a braided mustache. _Who on Middle Earth braided their mustache? _Legolas resisted the urge to shake his head. Dwarves were even stranger than he thought. This Dwarf however, as strange as he was, looked familiar.

He was one of the twelve Dwarves from the Company of Thorin Oakensheild; Legolas remembered giving the order to have him and his fellow theives imprisioned. Despite Thranduil's wrath and a good deal of effort on the part of the Elves of Mirkwood, they still had yet to discover how the Dwarves had managed to escape…

But that was a matter for another time.

The blond Dwarf- _Fee, _his name was? It was what his companion called him at least- seemed to realize that it wouldn't be wise to anger two Elves (he counted both himself and Tauriel), and shouldered his way almost imperceptibly in front of the dark-haired Elf, who looked as if he was considering launching himself at Legolas any moment.

"We're not looking for trouble," he said, his tone carefully honed and diplomatic. He shot his companion a sharp look, and to Legolas's surprise, the Elf obliged, curtly nodding his head and taking a step back. What self-respecting Elf took orders from a _Dwarf? _Legolas found himself liking the stranger less and less- even his name sounded odd. _Kili. _It sounded almost Dwarvish.

"We are outside the borders of Mirkwood, and mean you no harm," Fee continued with the same, irritatingly reasonable tone. "You have no cause to arrest us. Smaug is dead, and my brother and I only wish to join our uncle and friends at Erebor, our rightful home."

"Your _brother?" _

The blond Dwarf quickly tried to backtrack, but it was too late. He'd had a companion with him, Legolas recalled, during their capture- the tall archer that Tauriel was so taken with. At the time the Mirkwood prince had assumed they were close friends, not brothers, so different they were in appearances. Suddenly, the dark-haired Elf seemed hauntingly familiar.

_Kili…_

Another thought occurred to him; the names of Dwarvish siblings tended to rhyme… Fee. What parent- even a Dwarf one- would name their child Fee? _It had to be a nickname_, Legolas deduced. _Fee… Fee-li… Fili! Fili and Kili! _The names sounded right, and vaguely familiar. Legolas wondered where he had heard them before. Perhaps his father had mentioned them during one of his many tirades about the so-called King Thorin and the perils of dragon fire.

But if Fili and Kili were relatives of Thorin…

"That's right, my brother!" The dark-haired Elf- _Kili- _all but snarled. "A Dwarf of Erebor!"

There was frightened sort of defiance in his eyes, as if there was an invisible weight attatched to the importance of claiming relation to a Dwarf. Legolas had seen that same light blazing in those same eyes in a different time and place. The Elf who stood before him hadn't been an Elf then, but a young Dwarf.

One of the nephews of Thorin Oakensheild.

_But how had..?_

"Tauriel."

Her mother had been one of the last great practitioners of _Fea Evaliir, _had she not? And while becoming an Elf was not among the list of side effects Legolas heard rumored for the ancient art, he could see no other plausible explanation. After all, Dwarves didn't spontaneously transform into Elves.

His worst fear had came true- Tauriel loved the Dwarf. She loved him with the same kind of feirce, protective love that he reserved only for her. He thought back to the night he'd seen the two speaking in the caverns, all smiles and light laughter, talk of promises and starlight. He'd been jealous then; jealous that Tauriel had opened up more to that Dwarf in a single night than she'd done to him over six hundred years.

But love… how could he have missed it?

"_You care for the Dwarf," _said Legolas, slipping back into Sindarin so Kili would be unable to hear. _"__I've seen it in your eyes since the day his kind set foot in Mirkwood. I do not understand it, nor do I think I ever will, but I wish you well on your travels. May the Valar protect you and guide you." _

_"__You won't tell the Elvenking what I've done?" _The relief was palpable in her eyes.

He shook his head, the words catching in his throat. She loved another, but by the Valar, he would do anything to see her safe. _"__No. I won't tell him. I promised you, I will not be returning to Mirkwood when we face such a threat from Gundabad."_

_"__Legolas- _mellon_- you can't ride north alone!" _

_"__But who would go north with me?"_ The Mirkwood prince gave a sad, almost sardonic smile_. "Certainly not my father, nor any Elf under his command. You won't, not when you have another mission to see through. I will rejoin you in less than a fortnight. Go to Erebor with your Dwarf, Tauriel. You care more for him and your secrets more than you care for Mirkwood, for your place among our people. More than you care for _me_." _

He quickly turned and left, feelings threatening to boil over. Tauriel had made her choice, now he made his.

Kili glanced from Tauriel to the rapidly retreating from of Legolas with obvious confusion. He turned towards the Silvan elleth. "What was that all about?" he asked.

Tauriel shook her head. "It was nothing. I'm going with you to Erebor."

There was regret in her eyes, but Kili didn't ask why.


	8. Chapter 8: To The Lonely Mountain

**Author's Note: Thank you so much to all you awesome people who reviewed/followed/favorited this story!**

**Jessiekat89: Don't worry, the plot will deviate from ****_BOTFA _****more as the story goes on. Legolas and Tauriel parting ways will actually result in all sorts of altered timelines. Next chapter will not only continue with Thorin and Co. adjusting to the Elves at Erebor, but will also explore the ramifications of Legolas heading to Gundabad alone. **

**NovemberRain89: Yeah, It's a little hard picturing Kili as an Elf…Believe me, I've looked around for pics (and fanfics) on Elf!Kili, but I've never seen any. Honestly, I'd love some fan art for this story but since I'm about as artistic as a brick, that's not going to happen anytime soon. Sorry I couldn't be more help!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit**

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><p>By the time they returned Bofur and Oin were waiting, the ragtag group's meager possessions neatly packed and bundled inside the boat. The boat itself was still in exceptional condition, considering all that it had been through.<p>

"Bard has been generous enough to lend it to us," said Oin, placing a hand on its wooden helm.

Fili frowned. "I'm glad we have a boat and all, but won't he need to use it?"

"He has no further use of it, not where they're going." Before Kili could ask who _they_ were, Oin continued. "The people of Laketown are regrouping in the ruins of Dale. They'll be walking through the mainland, not sailing downriver. It would be a shame to let such a boat go to waste. Besides, once we get settled in to Erebor, Bard will be paid for his expenses ten times over."

Remembering the promise Thorin made to the Master of Laketown two nights previous, Kili nodded. He noticed Tauriel's look of poorly hidden skepticism, and felt a twinge of defensiveness. His uncle was an honorable Dwarf- he would uphold his word to the people of Laketown, Kili was sure of it.

Not _all_ dwarves were as greedy as Thrain, his great grandfather. How could Tauriel harbor any doubts? Their quest was a noble one, his Uncle's intentions pure. And what if their Company was protective of their treasure? It was rightfully theirs.

_Stupid Elves, I didn't see them risking their lives to help us,_ Kili thought in exasperation, feeling guilty as soon as he put his feelings to words. Tauriel was an Elf, and she'd been nothing but kind to young prince's stomach lurched. He too was an Elf as well now, so what did that make him?

The dark-haired Elf hesitated. He didn't _feel _any different- deep down inside he was still Kili; his new body hadn't changed that. But old habits died hard it seemed- as much as he cared for Tauriel, the lingering ghost of Uncle Thorin's lectures and distaste for the Fair Folk remained.

"Oi, Kili! It seems I've lost my pipe. You wouldn't mind putting those keen eyes of yours to use and helping me look for it, would you?' It was Bofur. Abruptly pulled from his thoughts, Kili turned in the direction of the toy maker.

"I'll look too," volunteered Fili, but Bofur quickly shook his head, cutting him off.

"I'm sure Kili and I can find it," he said cheerfully. "It'll only take a moment, stay with the boat."

Kili tensed. Bofur's tone was too light, too casual. Whatever he wanted, Kili was sure it was more than just a pipe. Fili seemed to notice the disparity between Bofur's words and deamor as well- anxiety flashed for the briefest moment in his blue eyes- but he said nothing.

Reluctant yet not wanting to offend Bofur, Kili headed over to the toy maker.

"I probably left it over there," said Bofur, nodding in the general direction of where they'd set up camp. "Would you mind coming with me?"

Kili said no, he didn't mind, and fell in step beside him. The sun had already risen high in the sky- it was a surprisingly warm day for mid November- and Kili knew that if they didn't set out for Erebor soon, they wouldn't make it there before night fell. Bofur couldn't be _that_ addicted to his pipe. Couldn't he have simply waited to replace it once they reached Erebor? The uncomfortable silence between them only grew with every passing second. Kili was only heartbeats away from sharing his observations when suddenly-

"How are you holdin' up, laddie?"

"I'm fine." The answer came swiftly and automatically, with hardly a second thought. Bofur merely sighed.

"That's the same thing you said when you took an Orcish arrow to the knee. You weren't fine then, and it's alright if you're not fine now. There's a difference between showing pain and weakness, you know." He glanced over his shoulder, then shot Kili a conspirational look. They were far enough from the lake shore that no one- not even Tauriel- would be able to hear them. His voice was rough with sympathy. "I wouldn't think of you any less for it."

Kili shrugged, blinking back tears. He slipped a hand into his pocket, fingers closing over his runestone. The stone was reassuring, familiar to the touch. His thumb ran over the front side of it, exploring all the little ravines and gullies the Khuzdul runes carved into its expanse.

"You're one of Durin's folk, alright. Just like your uncle. Stubborn, and never lets anyone forget it either. Doesn't give them _time _to." Bofur added, almost reminiscently. At Kili's questioning glare, he chuckled. "I don't think I've ever met anyone more stubborn than Thorin. You're probably too young to remember it, but when he and your mum came to the Blue Mountains, he had difficulty adjusting to his new life. He was a _prince_- he never expected to have to work for a living. The only trade he knew anything in was blacksmithing- and we have plenty of those already."

The dark-haired Elf swallowed, remembering the Blue Mountains. Thorin called it a pitiful excuse for a home, but to Kili and Fili, it was the only place they knew. It _was _home. He'd gone with his uncle to Erebor- because _Erebor _was their real home, right?- craving adventure and an escape from the tedious routines of everyday life, but he found himself missing the Blue Mountains.

_I wonder what Mum's doing right now, _Kili thought to himself. Was she still just as worried about them as she was the day they left? _Mahal, _what was she going to say when she found out her youngest son was an Elf?

_I need to get back to normal, and soon. Or else… _

_No. I can't be stuck like this. I can't. _Kili pushed away the dark train of thought and forced himself to listen to what Bofur was saying.

"…So he decided to try his hand at bein' a lumberjack. Not a bad way to make a livin'- all you really need to know how to do is swing an axe, and there are plenty of trees in the mountains. Some of the dwarrows more experienced in the trade offered to help him start out but no, he was Thorin Oakensheild, he didn't need help from anybody. Not for something as mundane as chopping down a tree, anyway.

"So first day on the job, he headed out into the woods not too far from the town. Found himself a tree and started chopping. It wasn't until the last blow that he realized he hadn't paid attention to the angle at which he was hackin'- or the way the wind was blowin'. When the tree started to fall over, it fell towards him."

"Was he hurt?" asked Kili in spite of himself. They'd all had to learn survival in the mountains, but this was a tale of Thorin he hadn't heard yet. The dark-haired Elf couldn't picture his uncle being bested by a tree- and he definitely couldn't picture him ever admitting that he was if that were the case.

"Aye, but not badly. Part of the trunk landed on his foot, but it wasn't enough to do any lasting damage. I suspect that what was injured more was his pride- he'd been so angry and full of himself. But this was over some sixty odd years ago, and your uncle's learned a lot since then. He's learned to survive in his new life and some day, so will you."

Kili narrowed his eyes. "No, you're wrong. This isn't permanent." _It can't be. _He didn't like the direction Bofur was taking this. The toy maker made it sound like he was going to be an Elf for, well… forever. "One day," he said hoarsely, "I will be a Dwarf again. Like you."

"Maybe lad, maybe." Bofur replied, but in his eyes he looked doubtful.

"Weren't we looking for your pipe?"

Bofur recognized the intentional change in subject and latched on to it. "Right you are, Kili." He dug through his pockets for a moment, muttering quietly to himself. "Ah! There it is. It was right in my pocket the whole time." He drew out the pipe, to neither he nor Kili's surprise.

He made a move to clasp the dark-haired Elf on the shoulder, realizing rather belatedly that Thorin's younger nephew had become too tall for that. He settled for patting Kili on the arm instead. "Let's get back to the boat. I'm sure the others are waiting."

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><p>By mid afternoon, it became clear that they were making good progress downriver- unless any further complications arose, they would reach Erebor before the sun set. The current of the Celduin was no longer as sluggish as it had been on the outskirts of Laketown nor as turbulent as it had been in Mirkwood, and bore their small them swiftly towards their destination.<p>

The sky was blue and the water seemed even bluer, the constant current sweeping the river bottom clear of any potential algae or pond scum. The Lonely Mountain stood tall and proud, no longer quite so in the distance, as if to welcome the weary travelers to its halls.

The relative ease of the journey meant that there was very little work for the occupants of the boat to do besides ensure that the boat remained on course. They had paddles, which every once in a while they'd have to use to steer around a particularly sharp rock, but they encountered little else.

While grateful for the reprieve, Fili soon wished that they _had _something to be doing. Not an hour had gone by after setting out before the group lasped into an uncomfortable silence.

Kili- whom Fili had been certain would've once been the most animated on their return to Erebor- sat almost sullenly beside him, absentmindedly fiddling with his rune stone and staring out over the water. Something must've happened between he and Bofur, Fili deduced, for the toy maker looked equally uneasy, worrying his pipe between his teeth as he struck his paddle lightly against the water, propelling the boat forward.

The blond heir was tempted to sigh. _This is going to be a long trip._

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><p>All too soon, they reached the foot of the mountain.<p>

"I can't do this," murmured Kili, looking up towards the entryway to Erebor, which was little more than a gaping hole torn asunder by Smaug, with apprehension. "I can't see him. Not like this. I shouldn't have come." His voice rose in hysteria, and no one had to ask who _he _was. They knew.

_He _was none other than Thorin Oakensheild.

"Uncle loves you, Kili," said Fili, placing a steadying hand on his brother's arm and gently pushing him forward. Kili had the same skittish look of a horse getting ready to bolt. "No matter what." He kept his tone calm, certain. "You can't let this get the best of you. Listen to me, brother. Listen. There's no turning back. We're going to go in there, march up to Uncle Thorin, and then… and then everything's going to be alright."

_Is it? _Kili wanted to ask, but he was too afraid of the answer. All he could think of were the hundreds- _wait, where they hundreds? They might've been thousands- _of times Thorin had declared his hatred for Elves.

"We've gone too far to give up now," agreed Oin. "The only way left is forward."

Kili felt lightheaded, his mouth dry. Back at Laketown, everything had been a haze, a fog of disbelief. Now, in front of Erebor, it all seemed so _real. _His heart pounded out a sickening rhythm in his chest. _I can't do this. I can't. I can't. I can't._

He looked pleadingly at Fili, but Fili's eyes, while reflecting sympathy, remained resolute. _Please don't make me do this, _he thought again. _I can't. _

"You _can _do this, Kee. We're with you." His brother said, as if reading his mind. Kili took a deep, shuddering breath.

"I will stay behind, if it will make things easier," Tauriel offered. "Your uncle has no great love of Elves and my presence is more than likely to only enrage him. I will keep watch over the boat and wait for your return." She hesitated, and Kili could see that her reluctance stemmed from more than wishing to not stir up trouble; she was afraid. Afraid of been locked underground, away from her beloved starlight. Afraid of being in the home of the enemy, surrounded by those she'd once imprisoned. But when she spoke again, her voice rang true. "But if you want me to come with you, you only need to give the word."

She was close to him, oh so close. Her auburn hair reflected the fading light of the autumn evening like a forge, a deep russet in some places and a brilliant copper in others.

"Come with me." Gingerly, he took his hand in hers. It was warm. "Please."

A small smile traced her lips. "Always," she replied.

From behind them came a disapproving snort. Oin, most likely. Neither Elf glanced back to see.

Together, the group headed towards the archway, Kili and Tauriel pulling away from each other as they drew nearer. To their surprise, it was Bilbo who dashed out to meet them.

"It's Thorin," the hobbit began without preamble, panting the words out between breaths. Kili froze. What could be wrong with his uncle? Had Smaug left him gravely injured? _Dead? _The dark-haired Elf wished Bilbo would just catch his breath already. "…he's been like this for days. He won't come out- not even to eat or drink."

_So he's still alive,_ Kili thought with relief. As long as his uncle wasn't dead, he could handle anything else.

But Bilbo wasn't done with his rant just yet. His eyes widened almost comically as caught sight of Kili and Tauriel. "Are those _Elves? _No, no, no, Thorin will _not _allow Elves under the mountain, he'll lose it if he sees you." The hobbit twitched his mouth nervously in that rabbit-like fashion and waved his hands as if shooing away flies. "I'm terribly sorry, but we can't have any visitors here right now. Not today. Please, go back to Mirkwood or Rivendel or wherever you came from." Shoving his hands in his pockets in a very agitated manner, he nodded his head and began walking back into the mouth of Erebor. "Good night!"

Somehow, Bilbo managed to make the greeting sound like a dismisal.

"Master Boggins, wait!" called Kili before he could stop himself.

"It's Baggins, Kili, _Baggins_. I've told you a hundred times!" Bilbo corrected, more out of habit than out of actual awareness to what he was saying. He stopped short as his words caught up to him, whirling around to face the startled Elf, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. The funny thing is, you remind me of somebody I know. Somebody who should be here, actually…"

Kili could see the cogs in Bilbo's mind turning as his gaze raked the group, searching for the Dwarf he used to be. He was relieved when Fili cut in.

"This is important, Bilbo. These two Elves need to speak with Thorin."

Reluctantly, the hobbit nodded. "Alright. But don't blame me if Thorin completely snaps."


	9. Chapter 9: Thorin's Nasty Surprise

**Author's Note: Back to school, which means slower updates. That, and this chapter took forever to write. I hope it turned out okay…**

**Vi-Violence and FleurSuoh: Thanks for the pic recommendations. I really liked them!**

**Borys68: Ah, yes. Silly me. I'll go back and rewrite that segment of the chapter soon and get that fixed. Thanks for reminding me!**

**GuLaLi561: Hehe… I'm glad I'm not the only one who thought that. Bilbo reminds me so much of the rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, it's not even funny. :P**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit**

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><p>Some might've called it madness. In any other circumstance, Thorin, <em>would've <em>called it madness. But madness it was not, he decided, dropping to his knees to once again scoop up another handful of gold. So beautiful, so cold. It was _his._

Rising to his feet, Thorin allowed the precious coins- only a fraction of Erebor's great wealth- to slip through his grasp, tumbling down the side of the golden pile in glorious disarray, mere grains of sand in the hourglass of riches of which the halls of his fathers were.

The newly made and self-declared (for that was what he was, at least until the Arkenstone was found) King Under the Mountain scowled, his contentment fading as his mind drifted towards his all-consuming obsession.

_The Arkenstone._

Until he could get his hands on the Arkenstone- literally _get his hands on it- _for then and only then would he hold the authority to unite the seven Clans under one banner, he held no true power. He had taken back their homeland, but what good would that be if he hadn't the strength to defend it? The Arkenstone grew in Thorin's mind until it blotted out everything else, and even the magnificent throne room and the resplendent throne of Thror grew small in comparison. He wanted it. He craved it. He _needed _it.

He called together the Dwarves of his Company, and ordered them to search for it. Only Balin- old, faithful Balin, whose back was stiff and eyesight was not as good as it once was- remained, hovering dutifully by his side as Thorin busied himself in perusing through the treasure, finding a ruby the size of his fist within minutes. It wasn't the Arkenstone, but upon closer inspection of its rose-tinted, multifaceted sides, he marvelled at how he'd ever done without such a gem.

His gaze swept across the throne room, hungrily taking in the impressive display of old, stone pillars and pile upon pile of the glimmering riches. It was his- all of it _his, _and he couldn't be more pleased with himself or his fine, brave Company.

A particularly loud shout from Gloin, who for the breifest moment, had thought he'd come across the king's long-lost prize, pulled him from his reverie, hopeful and expectant. But it wasn't the Arkenstone, Gloin regretfully affirmed, and Thorin's shoulders sagged. He looked out again at the wealth he'd amassed, but this time it failed to bring warmth to his heart. None of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was the Arkenstone, and it was out of his reach.

The thin line of his mouth hardened and there was darkness in his eyes.

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><p><em>I will not part with a single stone!<em>

The simple tone at which he'd said it didn't match the angry roar inside his head. How _dare _anyone suggest otherwise? Thorin rounded on Ori, the young Dwarf foolish enough to incense- albeit unknowingly- the king's wrath.

The scribe quailed under his icy gaze, nearly dropping his books and pen in the process. Ori was quiet and timid enough as it was, and no doubt it had taken him a good deal of time and courage to work up the strength to approach Thorin and cautiously broach the subject of his deal with the Men of Laketown. Evidently Ori clearly regretted it; he shook his head, frightened, and stumbled over an apology.

"We did make a deal with the Master of Laketown, it would be wise to honor it. Otherwise we may be looking at a potential war," cautioned Balin, though even _he _sounded reluctant to part with Erebor's treasure, Thorin noted with some satisfaction.

"There will be no dealings with the Men of Laketown," he bit back, "nor any other race who wishes to challenge us. This is ours and ours alone."

Nobody said otherwise, but Thorin did hear Bombur mutter once he thought the king was out of range, "Aye, we'll have plenty of gold, but then what? We'll have war and nothing to eat! We'll be beseiged." Stupid, fat Bombur. Always thinking with his stomach.

Thorin ignored the little voice in the back of his mind that warned him Bombur's words may have held truth, but became more wary still.

That night he wrote to his cousin, Dain of the Iron Hills, seeking his aid in help against their enemies. _If_ _there was to be a war, _Thorin thought darkly, _then let there be a war._

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><p>On the third day, the trickery of the Elves came. Surrounded by his gold in the center of the throne room he stood, waiting, eager for the arrival of his sister-sons. In his haste and desire for the Arkenstone he'd all but forgotten about them, but on that particular day he'd woken from a restless sleep, Fili and Kili fresh on his mind.<p>

A pang of guilt- as sharp and pricking as any Warg's claw- ran through him at that. How could he have forgotten his beloved nephews? For the first time since their arrival at Erebor, Thorin surveyed the mountains of wealth around him with unease. The gold called to him more strongly than any of his kin, glinting and whispering soft secrets in the dim lighting and for the first time, he was reminded of his grandfather.

_I understand how you felt now, _the king thought to himself, remembering the way Thror would wander the halls of their kingdom, his love reserved only for the precious metals within. But the thought was fleeting and he quickly pushed it away, thinking instead, _all of this, I did for them. _

Fili and Kili would understand.

And so he waited, thoughts on the Arkenstone conflicting with those for his nephews. He'd been forced to leave Kili behind at Laketown, and Fili- damn his attactchment to his brother sometimes!- had opted to stay behind with him. When they had left, Kili had barely been able to walk, and it was only out of concern for his youngest nephew that he forced Kili to remain behind.

Dis, Fili, and Kili were the only true family he had left, and Kili… Kili was much like Frerin. Certainly not in looks- his little brother had been more stocky, with stormy blue eyes that had bordered on green. Frerin and his nephew were more alike in manner, in spirit. Frerin had been a dreamer as well, and Thorin couldn't count the number of times he'd gotten into trouble for something his little brother that had done when they were younger. He wasn't made for the world, a fact Thorin had understood only all too well as his brother had lain in his arms, dying.

Kili had to survive- he had to. Because if he didn't….

It would be like losing Frerin all over again.

The king's contempative mood only lasted as long as the quiet around him- as soon as Balin reported to him that the Arkenstone had yet to be found, his volatile temper reared its head and he forced himself to rein in the urge to answer his old confidant with a scathing reply. The tug of the gold was stronger now, almost tangible, and Thorin ran a hand across the precious metal in a slow caress. And waited.

Late in the evening, with the muffled echo of footsteps clambering down the great hall and a call from Bilbo, _they _arrived.

Elves.

The King Under the Mountain almost scoffed at his own foolishness. _Almost. _Of course the Elves were the first to come, seeking gold and favors that he wouldn't grant. He could see past their lies and trickery, for what else could be expected from Elves who groveled at the feet of Thranduil the Oath-breaker? The Elvenking must've sent them, but Thorin would not be fooled. Not by Thranduil.

Nor ever again.

_Elves. _Why had Bilbo let them in?

Thorin braced himself for a confrontation- or quite possibly an attack- as one of the Elves; the taller, dark-haired one that he was fairly certain was male (though it was hard to tell with those pale, smooth skinned faces - blasted Elves!) took a fluid step towards him, arms outstretched in what was either a pleading gesture or an embrace.

"Uncle!"

Thorin knew that voice and despite all the changes, he knew that face. _Kili. _Shock, horror, pity and anger flooded his mind, stunning him speechless until at last the barrage of emotions subsided, leaving only one behind to take root in his heart- anger.

_How dare Thranduil seek to destroy him by sending one of his own in the guise of Thorin's own kin. _

The Elves were masters of deception, Thorin had seen it for himself in Mirkwood when Thranduil lowered the glamor that hid his hideous scarring for a moment. A well placed concealment spell was all it took, and an Elf could fashion themselves into the likeness of anyone.

How _dare _that Elf parade around pretending to be Kili.

"Do I know you, _Elf?"_ Thorin demanded, relishing the way the Elf flinched as he spat its race name as if it were a curse word. Surprise and hurt flitted across its face, and achingly familiar dark brown eyes glinted with tears, which Thorin pretended not to notice. They were only crocodile tears, meant to trick and ensnare him. _They were not real. It was not Kili- _

He ground his teeth as he continued. "You have no right to be here, defiling the halls of my fathers! You are a curse, you and all your kin. I have no dealings with Elves, or that cowardly Elf you call a king. Get out now, before I make you. I swear by Durin's beard, if I ever see you again, I _will _kill you."

The Elf let out a chocked sob, dropping to its knees so that they stood- or in its case, crouched- at the same height. "Uncle, it's me- Kili! Kili, your nephew. Kili! I'm trapped in this body, but I promise, it's still me!"

It even managed to perfectly imitate his nephew's voice. Anguished rage simmered in his chest, and Thorin reached out and slammed it against the ground, grasping it by the collar and wrapping his hands around its neck so tightly that it struggled to breathe. It offered no resistance, only looked up at Thorin with terrified disbelief. It had every right to be afraid. It shouldn't have chosen to mock him.

"I don't know what you are," Thorin growled, "or what your purpose in coming here is, but you are not my nephew."

"Uncle, stop! You're hurting him!" He was shoved roughly aside by Fili, the blond heir hastening to help the Elf, the _abomination, _to its feet. The Elf still looked shaken, gasping for air and rubbing its neck, where red marks in the shape of a hand had blossomed across its throat.

"You've got to believe him. He really is Kili!" Fili placed himself protectively in front of the Elf, and it was Thorin's turn to stare in disbelief. The accursed Elf had bewitched Fili as well. But how was that possible? This Elf was weak, pathetic. He didn't even put up a fight when Thorin attacked him! His gaze snapped to the female Elf, who had remained silent and relatively unnoticed up until that point.

"You." snarled Thorin, "I should've known. You're the Elf-witch behind this."

"I may have used magic, but I am no witch," the elleth replied. She stood to her full height, firm and resolute, but Thorin could detect a flicker of fear and uncertainty in her eyes. He recognized her; she was the Captain of the Guard who detained them at Mirkwood. His distaste for the elleth grew.

"I saved his life, but at a price. _Fea Evaliir _is dangerous and unpredictable, my people have not practiced it even at the best of times. He was dying, and I healed him. I had no control over what happened next, and neither did he. But if anyone is to blame, it is I. I poured life from my own soul into his, it is what sustains him. If he were to become a Dwarf again, the poison would once again catch up and kill him."

"Tauriel-" Began the Elf, eyes wide with surprise, but Thorin didn't allow him to finish.

"No Elf is kin of mine." _It's not Kili, _he ferverently told himself. _It's not. If it was, I would've known. It's a trick from Thranduil, he wants to steal what is rightfully mine. _"And you will not claim a single gem under this mountain."

He was tempted to banish the Elf right then and there, but one glance at Fili and he knew it would not be wise. His remaining nephew was still under the enchantment of the Elves, and until Thorin knew how to break it, he would be forced to play along. He nodded formally to the Captain of the Guard and her treacherous companion.

"You may stay under the mountain for three days or until I say otherwise. Then you must return to your own, on pain of death." Hopefully, Dain's army would be arriving soon, and he could figure out how to break the hold the blasted Elves had over Fili.

In the meantime though, he would watch and wait, and find out what they were really up to.


	10. Chapter 10: Beneath The Stars

**Author's Note: Thank you so much to anyone who reads this story! You guys rock!**

**Stardurin1217: Thank you so much! It's always nice to know that I've pleasantly surprised somebody. I've been trying to think up a new summary for this story for quite some time, but nothings coming to mind. Here's the new chappie- I updated as quickly as possible!**

**Guest: I agree. Thorin's a complex ****and awesome character, but sometimes I feel that all he really needs is a slap in the face. **

**SFninja39DragonStar: Wow… That was a fast review! **

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><p>If he had been alone, Kili didn't know what he would've done. He <em>still <em>didn't know what to do. Even with Fili, Tauriel, Bofur, and even Oin- although the old healer seemed have gone selectively deaf, choosing to ignore Thorin's angry shouts and the Elf's shuddering cry, but offering a sympathetic glance and a promise to check back in on how his scratches were healing once he'd properly restocked and his remedy kit afterwards.

The rest of the Company was a different story, however.

Between the not-so-inconspicuous walkway to the throne room and the cavernous palace's unfortunate effeciency at carrying echoes (and perhaps a word from Nori, who may or may not have been lingering near the mouth of the archway), their arrival in Erebor was no secret.

Kili had been hopeful for acceptance but dreading hatred. The one thing he hadn't expected was _this._

It was as if the whole Company was walking on egg shells around him and Thorin, or scrutinizing him under a magnifying glass; like he was some odd, brightly colored beetle that no one was quite sure what to do with. Whenever his gaze darted to one of theirs- which was quite often- he always found them staring back, with a pitying or uncertain expression on their face. He even thought he almost caught Ori tying to make a quick sketch of him in his notebook once.

Even when he looked away, he could feel the weight of their gazes boring into the back of his skull. _Mahal, _didn't they realize how unnerving that was?

Yet no one wanted to say anything, they were too afraid of angering Thorin.

Kili supposed that they were trying though, at least some of them were. Gloin merely huffed and made a big deal out of sharpening his axe when Kili hovered uncertainly nearby, debating whether or not to sit down next to the redheaded Dwarf. A pointed glance and another meaningful scape of his whetstone against his axe sent the former Dwarf quickly on his way.

But later that night, Bombur slipped him a second helping of stew- of which he vaguely remembered as being one of the better tasting recipes from their journey – so the dark-haired Elf supposed that at least _some _of them were on his side, thankfully.

The hardest part was being around Thorin. Kili longed to call the king _uncle, _but the ice in Thorin's eyes and the memory of sturdy hands with an iron grip around his throat made the familiar and much loved familial title die before the words even left his mouth. It didn't help that Thorin seemed adamant not to call him by name.

"Elf," he said instead, with barely restrained civility. Kili tried not to flinch.

"Thorin," he replied with a respectful nod of his head, testing the name out on his tongue. How wrong it felt without the word _uncle _in front of it!

But for the most part, Thorin preferred to leave his younger nephew alone. And for that, Kili wasn't certain whether to be upset or relieved. He was practically bursting to get away from the Company with their judgemental stares and poorly concealed curiosity. He wanted only to be in the company of Tauriel and his brother, and to maybe get a good night's sleep afterwards.

_I haven't truly slept since that night at Bard's, how is it that I'm still awake? _The former Dwarf thought, incredulous. He felt exhausted, both mentally and physically, but closing his eyes rolling over on his stomach seemed to no longer do the trick. Having unnaturally good hearing certainly didn't help things either.

There were so many things he needed to ask Tauriel.

_Is it true- I'll never be a Dwarf again? _Of all his questions, that was the one most pressing- and the most difficult to ask. Kili wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

But at last the bustle and activity of the day died down, as eventually the Dwarves got ready for sleep. They had made a temporary camp near the mouth of the mountain- blankets were strewn across the floor near the entryway, which was partially obscured by stones. It looked as though Thorin intended to provide a barrier between Erebor and the outside world. From their vantage point, they could easily see anyone coming miles before they reached the gate.

Their sleeping arrangements weren't too close to the entrance though- it was too chilly, and an icy late fall breeze could sweep through the opening with ease. Even without the draft, Erebor grew cold quickly. Kili noticed that the blankets were circled around the a fire, its light and warmth waning as it faded into embers.

"Kili?" The former Dwarf's keen ears detected the pad of bare feet before their owner had even spoken. "Bofur told me about what happened. And- and I believe him. I know you're still in there."

"Master Boggins," said Kili, turning around to face their burgular.

"It's Baggins, actually." Bilbo corrected gently. The hobbit offered a small, sad smile. "I should've known it was you at the gate, just because of that. I shouldn't have snapped at you, though. Do you forgive me?"

Kili supposed that in his own fussy, proper way the hobbit was actually trying to be comforting. He shrugged in response. "Of course."

If only seeking forgivness from Uncle was this easy. But what did he have to apologize for- being an Elf?

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why had he even come in the first place? He knew that Thorin hated Elves, so why should he have expected to be treated any different? _Because you're his nephew, that's why, _his quiet internal voice chided. _He loves you and Fili- or at least he did. You're not the only one who's changed. _Thorin had changed as well.

Bilbo seemed uncomfortable- and a little unnerved- at how quiet the youngest Durin was being. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well. Right then, I guess I'll be on my way." He started to turn, only to stop in his tracks. "Hypothetically, if Thorin got the Arkenstone, do you think he'd stop this madness?"

Kili paused and considered this. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "I've never seen Uncle act this way before. It might make him better, but it might make him worse. Why are you asking?"

"Oh. Ah, no reason," the hobbit answered evasively, and Kili was too tired to pursue it further. "Just wondering. Good night, Kili!"

With Bilbo headed off to bed, the former Dwarf decided to seek out Tauriel. He hadn't seen her since dinner, where she'd quickly drained her bowl and slipped away, leaving him to awkwardly try and bond with the Company. As irritated as he was by her disappearance, he couldn't deny that her presence probably wouldn't help prove that he wasn't really an Elf.

He carefully walked around the resting company towards the mouth of Erebor, pausing as he reached the pile of stones. They only came up to his waist. With only a moment of decision, the dark-haired Elf gathered his strength and leapt, landing lightly on top of them. He staggered for a moment, trying to regain his balance- he'd only been half expecting to clear the jump, but his new Elven muscles responded with surprising fluidity- before straightening to his full height.

A gentle wind blew through his hair and the moon hung high in the sky as full and round as a silver coin, casting everything below it in a soft, grayish light. The sky was clear, the stars glittering down on him coldly. Kili let out a slow breath. It had been a while since he'd looked at the stars- truly _looked _at them, with more than a passing glance.

As his gaze drifted lower, he caught sight of something (or in his case, _someone)_ that made his heart skip a beat.

Tauriel. She too was looking at the stars.

Jumping down from his perch, he made his way over to her. She was Elven- of course long spans of time spent underground were uncomfortable for her. Kili supposed that he should've tried looking for her outside sooner. He pointedly ignored the fact that above ground, under the open sky, he felt significantly more relaxed as well.

She straightened slightly as he came near, aknowledging his prescence, but her gaze remained fixed on the stars. "They're beautiful, aren't they?" she asked.

Kili murmured in agreement. "Mm, you are."

She turned towards him in surprise, and Kili could almost swear that she was blushing, even though her voice remained serious as she replied, "I was talking about the stars."

"What did you think I was talking about?" asked Kili, arching his brow innocently. A smile- albeit a small one, but a smile all the same- twitched at the corners of his mouth, and he fought it down. "You must've misheard me." Mahal, she was fun to tease.

"You mock me," said Tauriel, but her eyes danced with mirth.

"Who, me? I would never dream of it, my lady. Or should I say Captain? I'd have to be pretty foolish to mess with the Captain of the Guard."

Her cheerfulness faded at that, and Kili knew that he'd said the wrong thing. But what? Tauriel lowered her eyes, shamefaced.

"I am no longer Captain of the Guard, the Elvenking has decreed me banished. I cannot return to Mirkwood."

For a fleeting moment, the former Dwarf almost offered the Sylvan elleth a place at Erebor. Then he remembered that even _he _wouldn't be allowed at Erebor in three day's time, if he couldn't convince Thorin of who he was. Dread clawed at his stomach, and Kili suddenly felt sick with fear. "Then were will we go? You can't be with your people, and I can't be with mine. I'm frightened," he admitted, as hard as it was to get the words out in front of Tauriel. "I've never been anywhere without my brother. Not for a very long time, at least."

"You and your brother must be very close." There was a note of wistfulness in her voice that Kili hadn't heard before.

He nodded. "Fili's five years older than I am. The best big brother I could ask for. We used to get into trouble all the time when we were younger. Wait, no- we still do. There was this one time on our quest where we got…sidetracked… and when we turned around, two of the ponies were gone! Trolls had taken them!"

"Trolls?" Tauriel asked, clearly skeptical.

"Aye, trolls. Stupid, ugly, and _huge!" _The dark-haired Elf spread his arms for emphasis. When Tauriel still looked doubtful, he huffed in mock indignation. "I'll have you know that I have witnesses, thirteen of them! Ask any Dwarf- or Master Boggins. Fili and I sent him to take back the ponies."

"You sent _the Hobbit _to face the trolls all on his own?"

"We were right behind him! Well, sort of," Kili amended. "But that's what he was meant for. What's the point of having a burgular if he doesn't do _burglarly_ things?"

They both laughed at that, neither sure of who started to first or what exactly it was they were laughing over, the mental image of poor Bilbo, so proper that he wanted to postpone the quest to head back to Bag End to grab his hankerchief, up against trolls or Kili's use of the word _burglarly. _Perhaps stress had taken its toll on both of them and they'd finally cracked.

Whatever the case, as their laughter subsided, Kili asked, "What about you and your family? Any brothers or sisters? What are your parents like?"

"I have no siblings, and as for my parents, they were killed in an Orc raid." said Tauriel.

"I'm sorry," said Kili, mentally kicking himself. There he went ruining the mood- again. But Tauriel merely shook her head.

"It's not your fault, you weren't the ones who killed them. My father was a member of the king's Guard, and I vowed to follow in his footsteps. His name was Caranoron, from the words "red fire" in Sindarin. It matched his appearance as well- I inherited my hair color from him. He was brave and had a warrior's spirit."

"That's another thing you inherited from him then," said Kili, and Tauriel smiled.

"My mother's name was Imryll," the elleth continued, "and she was a healer. I learned some from her before she passed. She was one of the last great particioners of _fea evaliir, _the same magic I used to save you."

The former Dwarf's breath caught in is throat as he was once again given a reminder of earlier. "Tauriel, is it true that…" He paused, struggling to find the words. "…that I'll never be a Dwarf again?"

Tauriel paused, reluctant. Uncertainty and fear shone in Kili's eyes, but underneath she could still detect a glimmer of hope. _Don't give him hope where there is none_, part of her cautioned, but she quickly pushed it away. It sounded too much like Thranduil. Besides, who was to say that there was no hope? _She _didn't have the power to reverse what she'd done, but perhaps there was some entity out there that could. Tauriel decided that honesty would proably be the best option.

"I don't know, but it is unlikely." The Sylvan elleth admitted, watching as the dark-haired Elf seemed to deflate. He seemed miserable, exhausted. She reached out and took his hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. "But much of which was once impossible has become possible. I never imagined that this fate would become yours, so why is it not possible that such a thing can't be reversed? "

Kili nodded and started to say something, but then yawned. Wearily, he rubbed his eyes. "Do Elves ever go to sleep?"

"Yes, but it is not the kind of sleep you would think of it as." Her eyes widened as she realized what Kili was implying. "You haven't slept yet?"

"Nope." Kili huffed. "Not a wink. Not since before all of _this _at least. You know that saying, 'evil doesn't sleep?' I was starting to think it applied to Elves as well. What do you mean, Elves don't sleep the way Dwarves do? Tauriel, I'm so tired. How do I do it?"

"Well, for one… Elves sleep with their eyes open."

She almost laughed as Kili jumped, astonishment written all over his face. "I have to _what? _How is that possible? Won't my eyes go dry? What if a bug or a spider gets in my eye?"

She didn't manage to suppress a small laugh at that, especially as Kili indignantly spluttered, "This isn't funny! I'm being serious!"

"So am I, _nin meleth._" replied Tauriel, still chuckling. "All Elves sleep with their eyes open, it is the way of the Eldar. I've been alive for hundreds of years, and I've never heard of any Elf getting anything in their eyes while they slept.

"It's normal and safe," she added as as Kili continued staring at her, doubtful. "and far more restful than the sleep of either Men or Dwarves. I prefer to lie on my back and watch as dreams and starlight fade into one, but others do it differently. You're already tired, so it should come easily to you. Lie down so that you're comfortable, then breathe deeply and focus your gaze on a single spot. Think peaceful, soothing thoughts."

"_Soothing? _Uncle Thorin hates me. Something's going to land in my eye!" Kili's breathing began to grow rapid with panic. "In three day's time, I'm going to be exiled from Erebor!"

Tauriel's heart twisted in sympathy for the still newly-turned Elf. She understood how difficult it was to lose a home. "Don't say that, there's still time to convince your uncle. A lot can happen in three days time. There is always hope."

A heavy sigh came in response, but when the former Dwarf once again spoke, he sounded a good deal calmer. "I know. We still have a few more days, and I won't waste a single one of them." A pause. Then, "Tauriel? What does _nin meleth _mean?"

_My love. _Heat rushed to her cheeks, but she was saved from answering by an unexpected cry of, "Kili!"

Both Elves turned to Fili racing towards them.

"There you are, brother," he said as soon as he reached Kili. The moonlight washed his hair in an almost silver sheen and the relief reflected in his eyes was evident. "I've been looking everywhere for you, and was starting to worry you'd ran away."

"I'm not going anywhere," declared Kili, squaring his shoulders defensively. He bent over to hug his brother, and both Fili and Tauriel exchanged a long, meaningful look over his shoulder while he was unaware. If they couldn't convince Thorin- and soon- then Kili might not have any choice.

After Kili and Fili parted from their embrace, Tauriel bid the brothers goodnight and quietly strode away to give the two some time together alone.

"You've been up exceptionally early lately, Kee," said Fili, stifling a yawn. "Are you ready to go back inside and get some rest?"

"Who says I ever went to sleep in the first place?"

"You haven't- how did you-?" For once, Fili- Thorin's golden heir, the diplomatic one- seemed to be at a loss for words. Kili grinned slightly at his brother's confusion and astonishment. Looking back on it, his reaction reminded him of his own. "Do Elves not-" Fili at last choked out,"-not _sleep?" _

"They sleep, it's just different." said Kili, not bothering to explain any of the said differences. He still wasn't sure if he understood the mechanics of Elven sleep himself. Waiting until starlight and dreams blend into one? It sounded terribly confusing. He yawned as well. "I'm _so _tired."

"Then let's go inside," Fili offered again.

Kili tensed up. He didn't want to go back inside the mountain. That was where the walls threatened to close in all around him. Where the moon cast dark shadows on the walls. Where Thorin attacked him. He didn't want to set foot back in the mountain, not at the moment at least.

"Er, Fili?" The dark-haired Elf cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I think I'd rather stay out here and sleep." At his brother's stunned expression, he quickly explained. "I don't feel comfortable down there. Not after Uncle… I won't stay out here forever. Just for tonight."

"Alright," said Fili, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. As his brother lay down and got himself situated in the grass, he turned to leave. "Good night, Kili."

"Fee?" The blond heir stopped in his tracks.

"Yes, Kee?"

"Will you stay with me, please?" Kili's voice had become small, pleading. It reminded Fili of when they were younger, and Kili would have nightmares about goblins under his bed. He would then clamber into Fili's bed and make Fili promise to fight off all the goblins if they came. It reminded him of simpler times. He glanced back at the Elf- his _brother- _and shivered. The night air was cool and crisp, much different from the warm, inviting fire within Erebor.

"Of couse I will," said Fili, and Kili relaxed, a small but grateful smile on his lips. Fili lay down next to his brother, nestling against his side for warmth.

Kili sighed in contentment. His brother was with him, and Tauriel was with him as well. Metaphorically speaking, that was. Despite his earlier misgivings, he felt sleep begin to overtake him. It felt different than it had before- his eyelids didn't get heavy- but his body loosened and his thoughts slowed. The starlight seemed to swirl above him, and he was only dimly aware of Fili beside him.

Tauriel was right- the stars were beautiful, especially as they seemed to leap and dance across the sky. He wanted to wake Fili and show him as well, but his arm felt too heavy to move… Come to think of it, his entire _body _felt like it was weighted to the ground… But that was okay, for the sky above him shimmered with color…

_I wonder… _Began Kili, but that was as far as he got.

Elven sleep had overtaken him.


End file.
